The Half-Life Curse
by htdcd
Summary: A mistake in a second-year Potions class leaves Severus in a bit of a predicament. Are his brewing skills up to the task of righting everything? If not, it won't just be he who suffers. HP/SS, established relationship, post-DH, canon compliant through DH except for Snape!Lives. NOT epilogue compliant. Rated M for language and sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: All intellectual property pertaining to the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. All original characters, . are mine and may not be used w/o my permission._

_A/N: Follows cannon until end of DH when Snape!Lives and is NOT epilogue compliant; HP/SS; rated M (18+) for language and sexual situations._

The first thing of which Severus became aware was that he was lying down, presumably in a bed. The second, nearly simultaneous realization he had was that his head hurt – badly. The paranoid cynic in him wanted to open his eyes immediately to ascertain his whereabouts, but the more practical side of him decided against it, judging the result to be too painful for his throbbing head. Instead, he settled for a slight wince, to which there was a distinct reaction beside him.

"Severus?" he heard a voice question softly. It was a voice with which he was entirely unfamiliar, and so anxiety won out as he slit his eyes just enough to see who was next to him, wherever he was.

His reaction was pure horror, as he involuntarily cringed (oh, that was _such_ a bad idea!) away from the person seated not even two feet away.

"Potter!" he rasped out, his voice hoarse from disuse for however long he'd been lying in this bed. He watched as eyes widened in shock, and then narrowed in…was that _concern_? Suddenly, a wave of nausea came over Severus as he began to remember what had happened: Pettigrew breaking the Fidelus, the Dark Lord going to Godric's Hollow, going there himself once it was safe, seeing the demolished house, stepping over James to get to Lily, the baby, Oh God the baby, and Lily, dead, on the floor, him going to the cliffs, jumping out of grief…Severus willed back the vomit and scrambled to sit up, ignoring the protests sent by his joints and limbs. Something was wrong, though, very, very wrong. James Potter was dead, yet he was sitting right here, next to Severus.

Suddenly, two other people appeared (in the Hogwarts' infirmary, of course that's where he was) and sent Severus's heart into overdrive: Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey. Admittedly, the latter had very little to do with Severus's palpitations, but he was unsure how much the former knew about Severus' loyalties at the present time. He was about to begin justifying himself when McGonagall spoke – much more kindly than Severus had anticipated, given the circumstances.

"Severus," a smile appeared, "and so you have rejoined us at last." She sat down in a conjured chair and Madame Pomfrey made her way over to Severus's opposite side and began prodding him with her wand.

McGonagall and Potter seemed to be waiting for Severus to say something, so he began with the most pressing thing on his mind.

"What is Potter doing here?" Severus was very careful to look only at McGonagall as he asked his question, but he didn't miss the surreptitious glance of (there it was again) concern Potter gave her.

"Severus," Potter began, but was stayed by McGonagall.

"Why do you think Harry should not be here, Severus?" Minerva asked quietly, leaning forward ever so slightly in her chair, hands folded on her lap.

Harry? Who was Harry? Surely McGonagall saw that James Potter, the dead James Potter – Severus had seen the dead body with his own eyes – stepped over it, even – was sitting to his left. Severus chanced a longer look at James. Something was off – well, several things, actually. Severus suddenly realized he'd been called 'Severus' by Potter, something he had never, _ever_ heard. And something was different about James – he looked older, not by much, but definitely different from the last time he'd seen him, which, he felt he ought to remind McGonagall, was dead on the floor. But there was something else, too. Severus self-consciously scrutinized James's face. Didn't James have brown eyes? Severus wasn't entirely sure what color James's eyes should have been, but the more he stared, the more he became convinced that James should NOT have green eyes. Not _those_ green eyes. He blinked rapidly to hold back the tears that came, unbidden. Lily's eyes.

Who was this man who looked like his nemesis in every aspect but held the eyes of his dearest love? His childhood friend? Was this man a relative of Lily's? Perhaps one of James's? But Lily only had that bitch of a sister, Petunia; James was an only child.

"Severus?" the James look-alike man tried, but was again silenced gently by Minerva.

_Harry. Potter. Harry Potter. Oh My God._

The light went on in Severus's head.

"Harry? The baby?" he spoke only to Minerva, frantic. This time, she cast a sideways glance at Harry, who returned it, obviously concerned.

"Baby, Severus?" Minerva repeated. Severus's eyes darted back and forth between the Professor and Harry. "Severus," Minerva recaptured his attention, "do you know what day it is?"

"No," Severus admitted. After all, he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious in the infirmary. But he made an estimate. "I suppose it would be some time not long after Halloween."

McGonagall and Harry exchanged another worried glance, this time with Madame Pomfrey, who had by now finished her diagnostics on him. "And what year do you think it is, Severus?" she asked.

Year? Surely he hadn't been unconscious for that long; he couldn't have missed the turning of the New Year, could he? "Nineteen eighty one?" he tried. He realized instantly by the widened eyes of the three people at his bedside that he was wrong. But how wrong was he? "Eighty-two?" he ventured again.

"Would you excuse us for a moment, Severus?" Minerva asked rhetorically, and she pulled Harry and Madame Pomfrey off into a corner of the infirmary far enough away that Severus couldn't hear them. Severus wanted desperately to strain to listen to their conversation, but his head was pounding so loudly that nausea completely unrelated to the death of Lily Potter was nearly overwhelming him. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the light to help his head. But he couldn't block out the images of the house, James, and Lily, all lying in ruin. To him it was just yesterday, but clearly some time had passed. The fall must not have killed him as he'd hoped for. Someone must have found him before he could die and brought him here to Hogwarts. A small part of his brain wondered if perhaps Dumbledore had put some sort of warning alarm on him at their last meeting. He wouldn't have put it past the Headmaster to want to keep tabs on him, given…well, everything.

"Severus," McGonagall's quiet voice caused his eyes to pop open. He noticed that Harry was no longer in the infirmary. "Poppy is going to give you something for the pain, and then we're going to let you get some more rest. We're hoping things will become more clear for you when you wake."

"But," Severus protested, "How long have I been here? How long was I unconscious? How did I even get back here? Who found me?"

McGonagall held up her hand to stop the barrage of questions flowing from Severus's mouth. "All questions I promise to answer once you have had a bit of rest, Severus."

Severus wanted to argue, but received a meaningful glare from Madame Pomfrey, and then a vial of pain potion before he became too groggy to resist anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Happy New Year! This chapter is short, but the next one is finished and will be published soon! Same disclaimers apply. _

"…thinks it's 1981!" Harry was nearly shouting at McGonagall as the two of them sat in the Headmistress's office.

"It must have been some sort of memory curse, then," McGonagall reasoned.

"Well, we have to reverse it," Harry spluttered, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Obviously I would like that as well, Potter," she replied curtly. "Feel free to brew the counter-potion yourself."

"You know I have no idea what that would be," Harry responded with an exasperated sigh. "I wouldn't even know where to start. Only Severus would."

"Then might I suggest we ask him?" McGonagall asked with a quirk of her brow.

"How's he going to know? He doesn't remember anything! He doesn't even remember me!" Harry rambled desperately, tears filling his eyes.

"Potter," McGonagall said calmly, "Severus became a Potions Master immediately upon his leaving Hogwarts. If he thinks it is 1981, he would have already completed his course work, or at least be close enough to be of some use in the matter."

"What are we waiting for, then?" Harry turned to go back to the infirmary.

"Potter," McGonagall remained at her desk. "I think we might want to carefully consider how best to broach the subject with Severus. After all, he doesn't know who you are and he has no idea what has happened to him. To throw everything at him at once may be a bit overwhelming."

"What do you suggest, then? I don't want to waste any more time. He could be getting worse with every second that passes." Harry was pacing back and forth in front of the Headmistress's desk.

"I suppose we should break it to him gently; let him know he inhaled fumes from a botched potion and that it is actually 2004. I would refrain from explaining anything regarding your relationship together. It seems as though he is caught somewhere very near your parents' deaths. To find out he has been in a serious relationship with their son for four years might send him over the edge."

Harry's face instantly became wracked with pain. "Do you think we can reverse it? What if…oh, Minerva, I can't lose him."

"You haven't lost him, Potter, and it's entirely too soon to be catastrophizing. Let's take this one step at a time." She rose and made her way out from behind her desk, motioning for him to lead the way.


	3. Chapter 3

Severus heard voices outside the infirmary door. He was thankful that his head no longer hurt as it had yesterday, but he was still disconcerted at the fact that he had no idea how he had gotten to the Hogwarts infirmary. He was still terrified and considering making a run for it today if he wasn't able to speak with Dumbledore before someone else handed him off to the Dementors. As far as he knew, the Headmaster was the only person alive who knew that Severus was a planted spy among the Death Eaters. His head snapped up as the infirmary doors opened and he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw, not Ministry officials, as he'd feared, but Professor McGonagall and the man from yesterday. Harry. They both made their way over to Severus's bedside and sat down in conjured chairs. They looked expectantly at each other, as if they had terrible news they had to deliver to a small child. Finally, the man named Harry spoke.

"Severus, you were in an accident," he began.

Severus nodded his head in agreement. "Who found me?" he asked.

Harry exchanged a confused look with Professor McGonagall before continuing. "What accident do you remember?"

"I...fell. Off the cliffs in Dover." He tried again, "Who found me?"

"That happened a long time ago," Harry said. "You were in another accident, just a few days ago."

A few days ago? Severus was nonplussed. A few days ago, he had received news that the Dark Lord had found the Potters, care of Peter Pettigrew, and was on his way to murder them. All but Lily; he was supposed to spare Lily. But he hadn't, he'd killed her and left her for Severus to find when he…

"Severus?" Harry intruded on Severus's reverie. "You inhaled fumes from a botched potion; one of your second-years made a horrible mistake with her calming draught."

Severus had no idea what this man was talking about; he may as well have been speaking another language. "M-my second years?" Severus stuttered.

Harry took a deep breath and exchanged a significant glance with Professor McGonagall. "Severus, it's not 1981. It's not even 1982."

Beyond two years? Severus was terribly confused. This man had just said Severus's accident had only been a few days ago, but now he was implying that more than two years had passed since Severus was last conscious. Severus admitted defeat. "I don't understand," he confessed.

Harry closed his eyes and seemed to steel himself for his next statement. "Severus, it's 2004. You're a teacher here at Hogwarts. You teach Potions, and one of your students made a terrible error last week and you were unconscious for several days. We didn't know what the potion had turned into, but when you woke up yesterday," Harry trailed off at the look in Severus's eyes.

"I wish to speak to Headmaster Dumbledore," he said darkly. "Now."

"Fuck," Harry whispered under his breath.

"That is not possible at the present time, Severus," McGonagall interjected. "He is unavailable at the moment."

Harry gave a weak chuckle at the statement.

"I must speak with him," Severus insisted. "It is imperative that I tell him what happened. He and I have…an agreement…of sorts."

"Yes, Severus," McGonagall barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "I know all about your understanding with Albus. You-Know-Who targeted the Potters and you became a spy. I am well aware that you are no longer a Death Eater."

Severus was dumbfounded. He had no idea Dumbledore had confided in anyone else about his change of heart.

"You-Know-Who is dead, Severus. You haven't been a Death Eater for twenty-four years."

The infirmary was deathly silent. McGonagall conjured a hand-mirror and handed it to Severus.

"You're forty-four years old, Severus. You've lost your memory."

"So much for gentle," Harry muttered under his breath. McGonagall gave him a reproachful look.

Severus stared at the man in the mirror. It was a stranger, really. He tried desperately not to hyperventilate as he searched for some semblance of himself – anything to help him keep his grip on reality. Slowly, he began to recognize things – his nose, for one, that hadn't changed much, perhaps it had been broken a time or two more. His hair was the same, but was beginning to line with grey. His eyes were still dark, fathomless pools. But he was worn; his face was lined and looked older than any other forty-four year old he'd ever met. What the hell had happened to him?

"What happened?" he finally choked out.

"Melinda Brown did something, or _somethings_ very wrong when she brewed her calming draught in Thursday's class. She couldn't remember, exactly, but we bottled the potion and have been trying to figure out what the counter-potion might be." Harry stopped, his eyes searching Severus's with a sort of longing. "Obviously we've come up short. I suppose your Potion Master skills are about to be tested."

Severus was trying very hard to see things objectively. Although he desperately wanted to flee the infirmary and get outside to gulp in the fresh air, he remained where he was and tried to pretend that his whole world had not just been turned upside down. "Where is the potion?" he asked, hoping he sounded more in control than he felt.

"Well," Harry said tentatively, "Madame Pomfrey says you're well enough to leave the infirmary, so I thought, erm, we thought, you might like to take a look at it in your personal lab."

He had a personal laboratory? Severus raised his eyebrows reflexively. "Very well," he agreed. "Were my robes…" he trailed off, unsure of how to ask where his clothes were.

"Oh, sorry," Harry jumped up and ran off, only to return moments later with his hands full of folded black robes. "Here you are, lo…" he was cut off when McGonagall elbowed him in the ribs. "Sorry," he grinned sheepishly at her. "Habit."

Severus took the robes from the man named Harry, although he had a pretty good guess as to who this man was, now, and dressed quickly behind the screen provided. He was pleased to learn that although he was much older than he felt, he still had his same sense of style from when he was much younger. He made his way out from behind the screen and walked over to McGonagall.

"I suppose I need you to show me the way," he said to her. He didn't miss the light cough from Harry and the look McGonagall gave him.

"Severus, I regret that I have pressing matters to which I must attend. Harry will be able to show you to your quarters and your laboratory." She turned to Harry and looked over her glasses at him. "You," she said sternly, "behave yourself and remember what we talked about."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry smiled cheekily and waited until she had left the infirmary before he turned to Severus. "All right," he said, "let's get you to the lab." He walked out of the infirmary with Severus trailing behind him, not because Severus was slow, but because he was wary.

The two men made their way down toward the dungeons and Harry finally stopped at a blank expanse in the stone wall. He took out his wand and muttered a phrase in Latin that Severus didn't catch. A door appeared and Harry opened it, motioning for Severus to go inside. Against his better judgment, he did.


	4. Chapter 4

The sitting room was warm, but not overly so. Severus realized the décor was something he felt quite comfortable with, so he deduced where he was. "Are these my quarters?" he asked Harry.

Harry gave him a peculiar look before answering simply, "Yes."

Severus looked around and began to notice things that could not possibly belong to him – not unless he had had an entire personality transplant in the last few decades. "I share these rooms with someone," he stated, rather than asked.

Harry looked wistful as he answered again, "Yes."

Severus was about to make a very large leap in logic but Harry cut him off.

"I think we should get you to the lab," he said, and made his way over to a heavy door, opened it, and intimated that Severus should go inside.

Once they were both in the lab (which was really very excellent, Severus noticed), Harry led him over to a small table with a sealed vial on it.

"This is all we could get of the potion," Harry said, holding up the glass bottle only about six inches high. "The rest fell on the floor when you collapsed into the cauldron."

Severus took the vial from Harry's outstretched hand and scrutinized it.

"We sealed it because the fumes seemed toxic. Please promise me you won't inhale them again," Harry tried to joke.

Severus raised a single brow in disbelief. Did this man think Severus was an idiot? Of course he wouldn't inhale the fumes again. "I will treat the potion with the utmost caution," he assured Harry dryly. He turned to scour the perimeter of the room for the materials he would need to dissect the potion and brew a counter-potion. He began gathering the supplies he needed but stopped suddenly when he realized Harry was still in the lab, watching Severus with an indiscernible look in his eyes.

"Are you my assistant?" Severus asked him.

He thought he saw a flash of hurt go through Harry's eyes. "No," Harry answered him. "Sorry, I'll leave you to your work. I'll be…just outside if you need anything."

Severus nodded and watched as Harry left the laboratory and shut the door behind him. Before long, Severus was lost in the challenge of figuring out what the potion had turned into and how he could reverse its effects.


	5. Chapter 5

Severus closed the lab door behind him as he made his way out into the sitting room. Harry sat on the couch reading a magazine that looked suspiciously like Quidditch Weekly. The brown head of messy hair jerked up at the snick of the door and looked expectantly at Severus.

"Well?" Harry asked.

"The potion seems to be a variation of a Dark curse potion known as the Half-Life curse."

"Half-Life?" Harry jumped up from the couch, panicked.

"The actual potion erases a person's memory from the most recent half of his life. If the person were twenty, he would only remember things from his first ten years. If he were one hundred, he would only remember the first fifty. I am fourty-four, and therefore remember only the first twenty-or-so years."

"Is there," Harry swallowed audibly. "Is there a counter-potion?"

Severus held Harry's eyes for a moment. "No," he said flatly.

Harry let out was sounded like a strangled sob and dropped back down onto the couch.

"But this was not a full-strength potion. The wrong ingredients were added at the wrong time and turned the draught into an early-stage version of the Half-Life curse potion. I may be able to reverse its effects."

Harry let out an enormous sigh of relief. "Oh thank God. When?"

"I said I _may_ be able to reverse the effects. I have an idea of what the counter-potion could be. It will take approximately a month to brew," Severus watched as Harry's face fell, then forced a smile.

"Well, the point is that you'll be able to reverse it, right? A month's not so long, is it?" Harry mangled the smile on his face.

Was this man deaf? "I am not sure I will be able to reverse the curse," he repeated slowly. Harry's face fell as it seemed the insecurity of Severus's response had finally sunk in. "But I've already started the process," he told Harry. For some reason, he felt compelled to fix whatever it was that was bothering the man.

"Of course you have," Harry smiled genuinely, now. He stood up again suddenly, his eyes bright. "Are you hungry? I'm famished. Would you like something to eat?"

Severus realized he was, indeed, hungry. "Yes, thank you," he replied. Harry called out for a house elf and one appeared, acting ridiculously loyal to the man – perhaps it was his personal elf? Moments later, a full tea spread appeared. Harry motioned for Severus to sit down at one end of the couch and Harry sat at the other end.

"You don't have to stay with me," he told Harry. "Surely you have things you could be doing?"

Harry's face fell, then quickly schooled itself into a cordial expression. "Of course, Severus. I…I'll leave you to your tea, then." Harry stood and made his way to the door.

Severus decided to make the leap in logic he had almost voiced before. "These are your quarters as well, aren't they?"

Harry froze with his hand on the knob. He seemed to be warring with himself internally about how to answer the question. "Yes," he finally answered simply.

"Then sit back down and have your tea," Severus sighed.

Harry didn't move back to the couch. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he told Severus.

"Well, whether my counter-potion works or not, you live here and I live here and it will be at least a month before I can even try to reverse the curse. I refuse to dislocate you from your quarters simply because I do not remember who you are or why you live here with me."

Harry turned his head toward the wall to hide his pained expression. "If you're sure," he said, giving himself time to press back the tears coming to his eyes.

"Sit," Severus commanded. "Have your tea."

Harry took a deep breath and came back over to the couch and sat down, taking his tea cup from Severus.

"So," Severus began, "We live here. Together. And you are not my assistant. I could make an assumption about what that means, but I think it might be easier if you explain things."

"Easier for who?" Harry said, barely loud enough for Severus to hear. "All right then," he continued in a louder voice, "We're partners." Severus looked at him solidly, waiting for him to continue. "Romantic partners. We've been together for four years."

"I find that difficult to believe," Severus replied, "Given that I am not attracted to men."

Harry looked like he'd been hit in the face with a bludger. He had no idea what to say to that.

"And even if I were, I find it impossible to think that I would be involved with you, specifically, if you are who I think you are," Severus hedged.

Harry was silent for a moment before asking, "Who do you think that I am?"

"Well," Severus laid out his logic. "You look remarkably like James Potter," he tried not to spit out the words. "And you have the eyes of Lily Evans," he tried not to choke with grief on her name. "Your name is Harry, which is the name of their child. Given the time that has supposedly passed, I assume you are their son."

Harry gave one curt nod.

"Therefore," Severus stated plainly, "I cannot believe you would want to have anything to do with me, let alone become romantically involved."

"Why not?" Harry seemed confused.

Severus loathed to say the words out loud. He had admitted them to himself, but hadn't said them to another person yet. "Because," he steeled himself, "I killed your parents. How could you feel anything other than hatred for me?" He closed his eyes at this, as if he expected Harry to whip out his wand and curse him into oblivion.

Severus felt the cushions shift and then a warm hand was on his shoulder. "Severus," Harry said softly, "Lord Voldemort," (Severus instinctively flinched), "killed my parents. You made some bad choices, yes. And those choices were factors in their deaths, yes, but _he_ was the one who killed them. No one else. It took me years to convince you that I don't blame you for that. Please don't make me go through it again."

Harry's body was close enough that Severus could feel the heat radiating off of him. He looked Harry in the eyes and saw an emotion there that he had never seen another person direct at him: love. His heart began to pick up its pace and his eyes widened of their own volition.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly, moving away from Severus as if he thought he was making Severus uncomfortable.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Severus said quickly, smoothing out his robes in an awkward move.

Harry scooted himself back over to the other side of the couch. He finally picked up a sandwich from the lunch tray and began to pick at it. Severus followed his lead and soon the two of them were eating in a rather uncomfortable silence.

"So," Harry finally broke the stalemate after he had finished his sandwich. "Why will the counter-potion take a month to brew?"

"The _trial_," Severus emphasized, "takes a month because I will have to wait for the full moon to harvest several of the ingredients. I've no idea when that will be, so I suppose it could take less time, if the full moon is near and the ingredients are on the grounds."

Harry tried to remember what phase the moon was in tonight.

"There are potions ingredients on the grounds still, are there not?" Severus asked somewhat apprehensively. He hated the thought of having to go into Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley for ingredients. He was sure to be hexed (or worse) on site by virtually anyone who saw him. He could always brew some Polyjuice, but again, that required the full moon…

"…Hagrid's hut," Harry was saying as Severus came out of his daydream.

"Pardon?" he asked Harry politely.

"There's a garden out behind Hagrid's hut; that's where you usually get most of your ingredients from – when Pomona doesn't have what you need."

"I should go straight away and begin collecting the necessities," Severus said, relieved to have something to do with which he was reasonably familiar: all students had been required to maintain their own herbal garden at the Uni where he earned his Mastery.

"Oh," Harry looked surprised for a moment. "Sure, I mean, of course." He stood and waited expectantly for Severus to go gather his basket he always used for ingredient collection. He made an awkward movement when he realized _this_ Severus wouldn't have any idea that basket even existed. "Oh, erm," he walked past Severus, trying (and failing) not to brush up against him, and made his way toward the door to the lab. "You have a basket you use," he opened the door and stepped inside. "When you get your things," he called over his shoulder out to the sitting room where Severus stood. Harry retrieved the basket from the lab and brought it out to Severus, handing it over. "Here you are," he said, trying to be cheerful. "I can show you where the garden is," Harry led the way out of the quarters and into the Hogwarts hallway.

Severus held the basket gingerly and walked several paces behind Harry. "I," he began quietly, "I know where Hagrid's is." Harry stopped and turned around to face him. "You needn't…accompany me…if you have other things you need to do."

Harry tried his hardest not to let the devastation show on his face at this suggestion. "I'd rather come with you," he offered. "If you don't mind, that is…I know it must be hard for you, not kno-knowing," his voice hitched, "me and all. But, I'd like to help, if it's all right."

Severus gave Harry a once-over and lingered on his face. He shook his head, still feeling like he was dreaming and hoping this surreal feeling of being in the presence of a dead man would go away sooner rather than later. "As you wish," he replied. "How adept are you at gathering ingredients?"

Harry chortled before turning back around and continuing down the hallway. "I'd certainly say passing fare, but I'm reasonably sure that if you were yourself you'd say something like, 'If the five years I spent teaching you in the Potions classroom are any indication, Potter, you're unlikely to be able to tell a tadpole from a toadstool,' or something like that."

Severus stopped cold. "I was your teacher?" He double-stepped to catch back up with Harry, who had thrown a glance over his shoulder, rolling his eyes.

"_Teacher_ would imply you taught us things. Mostly you just hovered and made sarcastic comments about our lack of skill, intelligence, or anything else that popped into your head," Harry found it easier to banter back and forth with Severus if he wasn't looking at him. It was easier to pretend he was talking to someone else about Severus, rather than conversing with the man himself, who wasn't really himself.

"But you said we'd been…together for four years," Severus protested as they exited the castle and began their trek across the grounds to Hagrid's. "Does that mean I – I mean, did we…I find it hard to believe I would have become involved with a student," although, Severus noted in his head that he wouldn't have believed he would become involved with a man, either. Or Lily and James Potter's son. Perhaps this was a dream and he would wake up. Or perhaps he had died jumping off the cliff and this was some sort of perverse afterlife.

"Of course not!" Harry laughed as he jogged down the hill leading to the hut. "No, I'm twenty-four. I loathed you until I was about eighteen. The feeling was entirely mutual."

"Twenty-four?" Severus was incredulous. "But you look much younger."

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. "Yeah, I get that a lot. It's 'cause I'm short. And sort of scrawny."

Severus didn't have anything to say to that; Harry was on the shorter side, perhaps not over five-foot eight, and he was thin, although Severus could tell he was in good shape.

They finally arrived at Hagrid's (thankfully he was not home, and he had his dog with him, wherever he was) and made their way around to the back.

"Here is a list of the ingredients I need," Severus handed Harry a scrap of paper with approximately ten items written on it.

"Well, your handwriting's the same," Harry noted absently. He looked up at Severus. "I'll bring whatever I find to the basket."

Severus nodded once jerkily and began scouring the beds for the necessary plants. It felt good to be doing something familiar. Everything was so disjointed in his head. He felt something akin to panic lying just below the surface and he reflexively kept feeling for his wand in its holster any time he heard a cracking twig or crunching leaf in the forest next to them. He was finally able to relax somewhat, though, as he made his way through the garden, inspecting the specimens and assembling them in the basket. The inner peace was short-lived, however, when he snapped his head up and looked over to his right, feeling a pair of eyes on him.

Of course, Harry. He'd forgotten about the man.

"Sorry," Harry grinned sheepishly. "Didn't mean to stare. It's just…you looked so natural gathering things. It was almost," his smile tightened uncomfortably. "Almost like you were you again. Sorry," he apologized, wiping his hand down his face and shaking his head. "I don't mean to upset you. We should go back if you have everything you need; it's almost dinner time."

Severus nodded curtly and tried to conjure a smile for Harry, but thought he rather looked more like had eaten something unpleasant. Harry gave him one of those indiscernible looks again, and then led the way back up to the castle.


	6. Chapter 6

Severus had spent some considerable time in his lab after an awkward dinner in his chambers with Harry. He was glad, at least, that he didn't have to endure a dinner in the Great Hall. He didn't think he would be able to keep the panic that kept threatening to rise under wraps. He had excused himself to the loo and was returning to the sitting room when he stopped short at the sight of Harry standing by the Floo with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder.

Severus stared at Harry, trying to work out what was going on.

"Well," Harry began in response to Severus's scrutiny, "I suppose you're tired. You still need to rest, so I – I'll see you tomorrow. Minverva's got Slughorn taking your classes, so you needn't worry about teaching until we can get you sorted out. I've taken a few days off, but I have to get back to my classes now that you're…awake. I'll come by at morning break and see if you need anything."

"Where are you going?" Severus asked, his brow furrowed.

"Oh," Harry replied uncomfortably, "Well, I figured you'd – I'm basically a stranger to you, so I didn't want to sleep – you should get a good night's rest, and not be tossing and turning wondering who's next to you…"

"I shall take the sofa," Severus cut him off, waving his hand in front of him. "These are your quarters, too. I've no intention of displacing you."

"No!" Harry protested, readjusting his bag. "You need a good night's rest; you should take the bed. I – I'm fine. I've already talked with Ron and Hermione; I'll stay there...for a while."

"Who?" Severus tilted his head at the mention of two unfamiliar names.

"Oh, right," Harry looked at the floor. "Friends. They're friends of mine from school. I've got a room there, at their house."

Severus raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "You live here with me, we are in a serious relationship, yet you have a permanent room in someone else's house?"

Harry's mouth was ajar, trying to think of how to explain the situation.

"Do we often quarrel?" Severus asked quietly.

"No!" Harry protested again, this time dropping his bag on the rug in front of the hearth. "No, it's not that. Before we got together, I lived with them. When I was in the Auror program, I stayed there because it was close to London – to the Ministry. Then I moved in here, with you, because we're together and now I teach here."

"You teach here?" Severus cut in.

"Defence," Harry answered. "But I still stay with them sometimes – when you go away for conferences or when Hermione is out of town and Ron gets lonely. I go there because they're my friends, not because I don't want to be here with you."

Severus pressed his lips into a thin line. He did not like the idea of sleeping in a strange bed, in a strange place, with a strange man nearby. He still feared that he might awaken to Ministry officials carting him off to be kissed by the Dementors. He wished he could speak with Dumbledore.

"Very well," he consented to letting Harry sleep at his friends' house. "Do you think I will be able to speak with the Headmaster tomorrow?"

Harry's eyes widened, and he quickly bent down to retrieve his bags so that his face was hidden. He cleared his throat as he straightened up. "Erm, probably not."

Severus's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Why did it seem as though everyone was trying to prevent him from speaking to the Headmaster? He suddenly remembered something from earlier in the conversation. "Why is Professor McGonagall overseeing the substitute for my classes?"

Harry was sure Severus could see the wheels in his brain turning. He had no doubt that the man suspected something was awry; his natural sense of paranoia coupled with the recent events setting him on edge made it only reasonable that he would be on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. "She, erm, she's helping out while Dumbledore is…away."

Severus decided to let it rest for now (not that he had a choice). He would get to the bottom of this tomorrow. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest and let out a terse sigh. "Very well. Thank you, for your…help…today. I hope you have a pleasant evening."

Harry smiled sadly at him. "Get some rest, Severus. I'll see you tomorrow." Harry didn't wait for a reply before he turned and stepped in the Floo, disappearing in a whirl of green flames.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry buried his face in his hands as he sat at Ron and Hermione's kitchen table, elbows on the table top, steaming cup of tea in front of him.

"That bad, eh, mate?" Ron asked sympathetically.

Harry made an unintelligible noise of despair.

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, "Harry, is there anything we can do to help?"

Harry raised his head. "I don't think so. He said he wasn't sure he could even brew an effective counter potion."

"And he really doesn't remember anything?" Ron asked again.

"Nothing," Harry sighed. "The last thing he remembers is 'falling' off the Dover cliffs after my parents were killed."

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Harry. But if anyone can fix this, it's Severus. He's the best Potions Master in Britain. I'm sure he'll find a way."

"You didn't hear him, Hermione. He sounded so hopeless, like he knew it wasn't going to work, but he would try anyway just to humor me."

"I'm sure he doesn't think it's hopeless," Hermione assured him.

Harry exhaled loudly. "He keeps asking to speak with Dumbledore."

"Shite," Ron cursed.

"My thoughts exactly," Harry nodded, taking a sip of his tea.

"What are you going to tell him?" Ron leaned forward expectantly.

"Well, I'm not sure. I suppose I'll have to talk with Minerva about it. Severus hasn't been out of our quarters since he left the infirmary, so he hasn't spoken with anyone else. We'll have to tell him the truth before he has a chance to see anyone who doesn't know about his memory."

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione repeated, patting his arm gently. "That's going to be awful."

"I know," Harry groaned.

"Do you think he'd let me help him?" Hermione asked suddenly, her eyes brightening a bit.

"Help him?" Harry looked at her, nonplussed.

"With the potion," Hermione clarified. "I mean, I'm not anywhere near his skill level in brewing, but I could do research for him, you know, see if anyone else has ever tried to counter the effects of the curse."

Harry cocked an eyebrow, "Even if this hadn't happened, when has he ever been all right asking for help with a potions problem, Hermione?"

Ron stifled a chuckle.

"Well, it couldn't hurt to ask," she threw a nasty look at Ron.

"I suppose not," Harry conceded.

"So you'll be here a while, then?" Ron stood up to empty their tea into the sink.

"A few weeks, at least. When's the full moon?" he looked to Hermione.

"Just over two weeks from now," she nodded. "He'll be able to get his ingredients collected then, and it'll just be a waiting game from there. I'm not sure how long the actual potion he's making will take to brew."

"What if it doesn't work?" Harry whispered, dropping his head into his hands again.

Hermione stood and walked around to Harry's back, snaking her arms around his chest and giving him a reassuring hug. "It will," she promised. "If anyone can do this, it's Severus. And whether he wants it or not, I'll be there helping him."

Harry choked on a snort, sitting up and turning to give Hermione a peck on the cheek. "Yeah, that's likely to endear me to him."

She swatted him on the back of the head as he stood up, and they all made their way to bed.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I am returning to work on Tuesday, January 22. Just a heads up because that will invariably slow down my writing process. I know you want to know what happens - I want to write it - but I have to keep food on the table. I'll do as much as I can as often as I can...I promise!_

* * *

Same disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Severus was running. He was running and the wind was blowing so hard he could barely see for his hair whipping around his face. And his arm was burning; the Dark Lord was summoning him. Severus ran like a man possessed. The longer he waited to answer the summons, the deeper the Mark burned into his arm. If he could just reach the edge before the pain became unbearable…he ran. He ran to the edge of the cliffs and…_

Severus's eyes flew open as he cried out, thrashing in the sheets. The room was dark and cool, but Severus was soaking wet from a cold sweat. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He sat up suddenly and turned to hang off the edge of the bed and was violently sick on the floor. Instinctively, he reached for his wand from beneath his pillow and Vanished the mess. His breathing finally slowed and he felt around in the dark, realizing this was not his bed. Like a flash of lightning, the events of the previous day came back to him, hitting him like a flood gate opening. He felt lost; it was as if someone had put a time turner around his neck and transported him to a future of which he had no knowledge. Lily was gone, and it was all his fault, but he couldn't grieve for her the way he wanted to because he was here, confused, and people seemed to know things he didn't. For only the third time in his life, Severus Snape put his head in his hands and cried.

Harry made his way down to his quarters after morning lessons, hoping Severus was rested, at the very least. As he approached the entrance, he slowed, unsure of what to do. These were his quarters, too, but Severus didn't remember their relationship; should he knock? Would it startle Severus if Harry just waltzed in without announcing his presence? What if Severus was in the shower? What if he was still in bed, asleep? Had he left the rooms since Harry'd been gone? Harry's pulse started to race as he thought about the disasters that could occur if Severus had seen anyone else. The panic made his mind up for him and he flew into the room, just barely refraining from drawing his wand. He stopped short and nearly stumbled over his own feet when he saw Severus sitting on the settee, reading a copy of the Prophet.

"Erm, good morning," Harry said as Severus looked up, halfway between alarmed and irritated.

"Morning," Severus replied, inclining his head.

Harry made his way around to the armchair next to the settee and took a seat. There was plenty of room next to Severus, but Harry didn't want to make him uncomfortable. "Did you sleep well last night?" Harry asked him politely.

Severus's eye twitched. "As well as could be expected, I suppose."

"Nightmares?" Harry guessed.

Severus narrowed his eyes as he examined Harry warily. "What makes you think that?"

"Because you have nightmares," Harry tried to keep from rolling his eyes. When Severus didn't relax, Harry continued. "You don't get them much anymore, not when we sleep together, anyway, but when you're by yourself, they come back."

Severus shifted on the settee, looking discomfited.

"Don't worry," Harry tried to placate him. "I get them, too. And when I'm asleep with you, mine go away as well. I'm sorry you had one last night."

"Did you have a pleasant evening, then?" Severus asked after a pause.

"Eh, I've had better," Harry cocked a half-smile. "At least I had classes to teach this morning to take my mind off of things."

"You teach Defence?" Severus checked, remembering a snippet of their conversation from the night before.

"Yeah. You teach Potions," Harry supplied for him, sure he would ask.

"You don't say," Severus said dryly.

Harry resisted sticking his tongue out at the man. "Just because you're a Potions Master doesn't mean you _have_ to teach Potions," he retorted.

Severus gave him a pointed look, then resumed reading the Prophet. "So, what are you to do with me today?" he asked Harry, his eyes staying on the page in front of him.

"Well," Harry began uncomfortably, "A friend of mine was hoping she could stop by and help you with the research on the counter-potion for the curse."

That got Severus to look up from his Prophet. "That is unnecessary," he said stonily.

Harry sighed. "I told her you'd not want her help, but I think it might be a good idea for you to let her. She's bloody brilliant. Was best in our year by far. Got top marks in her Uni program for a double in Transfiguration and Arithmancy."

"I fail to see how any of that warrants her helping me with a potion," Severus replied cagily.

"She doesn't want to help you brew," Harry clarified. "She wants to help you research, you know, bounce ideas off of each other."

Severus looked like there might be a million things he'd rather do than 'bounce' with anyone, in any possible way.

"At least meet with her. She's a close friend. It might do some good to have someone look at it from a different perspective. I just," Harry tried not to sound desperate, "I just want us to try everything; I want us to do everything we can possibly do to fix this."

Severus eyed Harry shrewdly for a moment. "Very well," he conceded. "I shall meet with this friend of yours and perhaps even let her share an idea or two with me regarding the current situation."

Harry sighed and broke into a huge smile.

"If," Severus continued, sitting up and folding the Prophet on the couch beside him. "You let me speak with the Headmaster before she arrives."

Harry's smile was gone in an instant. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands, still not sure how to approach the subject. He hoped the younger Severus was the same as the Severus he knew in at least one aspect; the man appreciated it when people were direct. In fact, the more blunt the better. Harry figured that was the best approach he had, so he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

"You can't speak with Albus, Severus."

Severus's eyes darkened.

"Just," Harry put up his hands to stop whatever it was Severus had intended to do. "Just hear me out. And please don't hex me," he added.

Severus folded his arms across his chest in a move of practiced defiance and narrowed his eyes, jutting his chin up in defence at whatever Harry had to say.

"Look, it's been twenty-three years since my parents died. A lot has happened. Albus was old; his reflexes weren't what they used to be," Harry pulled a line from Dumbledore himself. "His judgment wasn't what it used to be."

Severus's whole body seemed to fold in on itself as he inferred what Harry meant. His face paled as the pieces settled into place in his head. "When?" he finally asked.

"Nineteen ninety seven," Harry answered softly.

"What happened?" Severus nearly whispered. It felt like a stone pressed upon his chest, making it hard to breathe.

"He was cursed," Harry told him gently. "He picked up a cursed object and it was only a matter of time before the dark magic did him in."

Severus pressed his eyes shut. "Did he suffer?"

"No," Harry assured him. "No, he went painlessly. A…friend," Harry toed the line, "helped him. Made sure he didn't suffer."

Severus sat for a while, his eyes closed, images playing in his mind of everything he remembered about Albus Dumbledore. The only man who had ever seen any good in him. His heart nearly broke with the realization that he would never see him again.

"I'm so sorry, Severus," Harry whispered. He knew it would a bad idea to tell Severus any more at the present moment, but he also knew he would have to at some point. He wondered how many memories he should share with the man before he tried to reverse the curse with the potion.

"Thank you," Severus finally replied. He took a deep breath and firmly resolved not to think about the death of Albus again. "When will your friend arrive?" he asked Harry.

"She should be here shortly after lunch," Harry answered him. His eyes brightened. "Would you like to take lunch in the Great Hall with me?"

Something akin to panic rose in Severus's eyes. "I…don't think so," he responded, his voice stilted.

"I swear," Harry promised, "No one is going to do anything to you. They won't even give you a second glance. You really are safe."

"You'll forgive me if I find that somewhat difficult to believe," he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"I know it is, but…you can't stay holed up in here for a month, or however long it takes to brew the potion."

Severus looked as though that had been exactly what he had intended to do.

"Look, I know that to you, it must feel like Voldemort," (Severus flinched) "could come crashing through the door at any second," Harry stood and gestured toward the door. Severus eyed it warily. "But he won't. He's gone. I killed him myself. Check your Mark if you don't believe me."

Severus's eyes snapped back to Harry. "You? You killed him?"

"Yeah, well, he sort of did it to himself, but yeah." Harry's mouth twisted into a mangled smile.

"So the prophecy was right," Severus sat back in awe.

"Oh," Harry flushed. "Right. The prophecy. Yeah, it was right. I know about that, too, by the way."

It was Severus's turn to flush. "About what?" he prevaricated.

"That you told Voldemort," (Severus flinched) "about it; that you were the one who overheard it at the pub. I forgave you for that, too, by the way."

Severus paused for a moment, searching Harry's face. "You seem to be a very forgiving man," he said evenly.

"Life's too short to hold grudges," Harry shrugged. "If people held every mistake I'd ever made against me, I'd be…pretty lonely."

Severus had nothing to say to that. He looked down suddenly at his arm and glanced back up to Harry. "Check my Mark?" he raised his eyebrows in question.

"Check it," Harry nodded.

Severus rolled up his left sleeve and felt his heart stop. His arm was nearly unblemished. The Mark was so faded, one would have to know that it was there in order to see it.

"How?" he breathed, unable to form a whole sentence.

"When Voldemort," (Severus flinched) "died, the Marks faded. No one was sure why; most people thought it had something to do with his magic and its tie to the mark or something."

Severus gently fingered his forearm. "I thought," he spoke in a low voice, perhaps to himself, "I would have to endure this Mark forever. I was prepared to wear it as a penance for my foolishness." He looked up suddenly at Harry, as if he just remembered the man was there. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

"Me?" Harry was surprised. "Why?"

"You killed him," Severus stated, as if the reasoning should be obvious. "Because of you, the worst decision I ever made won't be staring me in the face every day of my life."

"Oh," Harry looked down at his feet, embarrassed, and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't want to point out to Severus the irony that Harry, a constant reminder of Severus's poor choices, stared him in the face every day. "Sure."

Severus went back to reverently tracing the faded Mark for a moment before Harry cleared his throat.

"So," Harry gestured to the door again. "Lunch?"

Severus stood and took a deep breath. "If you allow me to have my wand, then I shall accompany you to the Great Hall," he hoped he sounded braver than he felt.

"Allow you to have…" Harry rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Severus," he shook his head and chuckled. "You're not a prisoner here. Of course you can have your wand. You _should_ have it." Harry made his way to the door, shaking his head. "…take your wand from you," he muttered under his breath as they made their way out of the rooms and into the hallway.

Severus stayed behind Harry, but tried to follow him closely so as to not attract too much attention to himself.

Harry threw an amused glance over his shoulder when he sensed Severus sneaking around behind him. "Try not to hex any students, all right?" he teased.

Severus frowned and pursed his lips at that. Harry saw the face and laughed as he pushed open the doors to the Great Hall.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Thank you SO much for your patience, my lovely readers. Things have been VERY hectic since going back to work a few weeks ago. Being a working mother is no joke. I finally have something new for you, and I will work my very hardest to have another chapter soon. Until then...enjoy! Same disclaimers apply._

When Harry and Severus returned to their rooms from lunch (which had been, Severus noted with surprise, exactly as uneventful as Harry had promised), someone was waiting for them, sitting on the settee.

"Hermione!" Harry broke into a grin.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione rose with a smile and made her way around to both men. "Severus," she nodded gently.

Severus gave her a terse smile.

"Sev," Harry began, but after a glare from Severus, amended the name, "-erus, this is Hermione Granger. She and her husband are the two friends I'm staying with at night."

"Mrs. Granger," Severus nodded at her in greeting.

"Please call me Hermione, sir," Hermione shook his hand firmly. "I appreciate your being open to my help with the research."

"Yes, well," Severus cast a surreptitious glance at Harry, "I suppose additional input couldn't hurt the situation."

Harry gave Hermione a sideways hug and a peck on the cheek and moved to do the same to Severus but stopped short, winding up with his hand landing awkwardly on Severus's arm. "I've got to go to class," he looked between Severus and Hermione. "Severus can catch you up on everything in the lab. Do you have to be back at work at a certain hour?"

Hermione shook her head. "I took the rest of the day off."

Severus looked uncomfortable at this pronouncement, and his grimace was caught by both Hermione and Harry. They both opened their mouths to say something, but Hermione was quickest to the punch. "I head my own department," she assured him. "It's no bother to take off whenever I need it." Severus didn't seem placated. She turned to Harry, "We'll see you once lessons are over for the day."

"All right," Harry headed to the door, unsure of how the two of them would get along in this bizarre state. He remembered something important, though, and came back to whisper into Hermione's ear, "He knows Dumbledore's gone; I told him. He doesn't know he did it, though."

Hermione nodded solemnly and gave Harry's hand a squeeze, and then he was off.

Once the door snicked shut, Severus and Hermione turned back to look at each other. Neither seemed to want to break the silence, but Hermione finally relented.

"So," she began, "I did a bit of research on the Half-Life Curse potion, so I think I'm up to speed on it. Do you know at which stage the botched potion was when you inhaled the fumes?"

Severus hesitated for a moment before answering her, finally deciding that rejecting her wouldn't do anyone any good. At least this witch had the forethought to research the potion before she'd come to him; it would not have endeared her to him if he'd have had to waste his time teaching her about it.

"I believe the student may have turned it into something between the sixth and seventh step when she added the rose hips at the wrong time."

"Right," Hermione nodded seriously, and headed in the direction of the lab. "I found some books on past research for the counter potion," she reached into her pocket and retrieved a small package, placed it on one of the tables just inside the laboratory door, and unshrunk it to reveal several old volumes. "I know no one has brewed a successful one for the full-strength version of the curse, but there were definitely some helpful theories in some of these attempts."

Severus reached out to the stack and picked up the first one, flipping through some of the pages.

"I wasn't sure if you'd seen all of the research, so I brought everything I found," Hermione explained cautiously.

"Mmm," Severus mused as he picked up another tome. "Some of these I did have time to look at, others, I did not. Perhaps you could summarize some of the most helpful pieces you found?"

Hermione's eyes brightened at this and she reached into her satchel and pulled out several pages of hand-written notes. It didn't take long before the two of them were poring over her observations and different sections of text, discussing various components of theories and ingredients.

"Do you know much about my…relationship…with Harry?" Severus asked Hermione as they worked on a trial potion base. They had been going at theory and practice for a few hours.

Hermione looked at him sideways, clearly unsure of how to respond. "I know some things."

"Do you know…how we came to be in a relationship?" Severus asked her, not wanting to be too blunt about his question regarding his apparent change in sexuality.

"Have you asked Harry about it?"

"He is distressed about the current...situation. I do not want to upset him further."

Hermione seemed to blush as she angled her head down so her hair covered her face. "I'm not sure how much Harry would want me to tell you."

This confused Severus, until she continued.

"He's my friend; we talk about things. We share things. I'm not sure how much of what I know he would consider confidential."

Severus understood her dilemma. "I am merely interested in the basics," he assured her. "He said earlier today that he…loathed me until he was 18…do you have any idea how he changed his mind?"

Hermione looked up at him with a speculative look in her eyes. "His…perspective changed, I suppose," she began. "After the war, after what he saw. Once you were out of hospital and he started helping rebuild Hogwarts. You saw a lot of each other then, during the effort. I imagine him spending time with you not as his teacher had a lot to do with it."

"He said I took a bit of 'convincing'," Severus pressed. "Do you know how he 'convinced' me?" Severus meant convincing in terms of becoming attracted to another man, but he wasn't sure Hermione knew that.

She smiled, "Well, it wasn't overnight." Immediately, her face flushed, as if she realized the potential double meaning behind her words. "I mean, it did take a while."

She busied herself for a moment with some ingredients and Severus thought she might not continue, but she eventually spoke again. "He started spending more time here after the work for the day was done. At first, it was just a few hours here and there, but soon it was every weekend. He told me you would mostly talk, play chess, things like that."

"Mostly talk?"

She blushed again, quickly looking back down at the ingredients. "He hasn't told me everything," she said, trying to hide her smile. "It was hard for him," she continued. "He thought he would never have a chance with you."

Severus rather thought it should have been the other way around.

"He was so despondent at first, because of you and his mum."

"Lily?" Severus stilled his hands on the work table.

"You know, because you were in love with her," Hermione glanced over at him. "He was sure you would never see him like that."

Severus wanted to know how Harry and his friend (friends?) had found out about the love he had for Lily. He'd told no one, not even Dumbledore, about his obsession – although he strongly suspected Albus had known. "And did he ever tell you how he managed to change my mind?"

Hermione looked at him critically; for a moment, he feared he had said the wrong thing and she wouldn't tell him any more about the topic.

"He told me, once, something you said, when he asked you about it."

"Asked me about it?" Severus was confused; it seemed as though Hermione was trying to tell him that Harry hadn't done anything to Severus, but that Severus had felt this way towards Harry on his own. He was completely sure that had not happened.

"About how someone could love, you know, two different kinds of people," she finished diplomatically.

_Ah_, Severus thought, _she knows exactly what I'm asking_.

"What did I say to him?" Severus wanted to know.

"He told me you said, 'Love is much like the brewing of potions; sometimes, you mix two ingredients and there is an instant reaction: sparks and fireworks and smoke. Other times, you mix them and it takes a while for them to simmer and come together, but if you leave it for a while, when you return you'll see something has appeared – something you might not have expected.'"

Severus thought that sounded exactly like something he would have said. He knew the first scenario was what he felt the instant he had laid eyes on Lily as a young boy. He deduced that the latter was what had occurred between him and Harry.

"Does he love me?" Severus finally asked after a long silence.

Hermione looked at Severus with something very near pity in her eyes. He preferred to identify it as sympathy. "Desperately," she said with a soft smile.

"Do I love him?" Severus continued in a low, unsure voice.

This time, he could not label the look he saw on her face. "I hope so," she finally answered, her eyes misting as she turned her head back to the ingredients in front of her.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Happy belated Valentine's Day, my faithful readers! My students had a quiz on Friday, and instead of planning for next week like I should have, I wrote this for you! Because I love you just that much :) Enjoy!_

_Same disclaimers apply_

* * *

When Hermione and Severus finally finished their work for the day and came back into the main part of the quarters, Harry was already sitting on the settee, reading in front of the fireplace. He looked up as he heard them come in.

"How'd it go?" he asked, clearly unsure he wanted to know the answer.

Hermione smiled brightly. "Really well," she assured him. "We'll definitely be ready for the full moon, and then we'll just have to wait and see."

Severus remained silent, not wanting to add his opinion that he very much doubted their endeavor would work.

Harry stood and marked his place in his book. He made is way over to Hermione, who stood ready to go through the floo.

"Thanks," he said, wrapping her in a hug. "I knew you'd be useful."

She snorted and smacked his head as she pulled out of the hug. "I've been 'useful' since the day you met me," she laughed. "Severus," she turned to face the still-silent figure behind the settee. "Thank you for letting me work with you today. If you'd like, I can come by at the full moon and see if I can be of any 'use'," she threw a playful glare at Harry.

Severus gave her a tight, thin-lipped smile and nodded his head with a jerk.

Hermione leaned in to give Harry a kiss on the cheek. "He's still skittish," she whispered into his ear. "But he's desperate to understand the two of you. You might want to think about showing him a memory or two."

Harry nodded as Hermione stepped back, giving him a significant glance before throwing the floo powder into the grate and stepping through in a whirl of green flames.

"So, dinner's in about half an hour, do you want to take it in the Great Hall?" Harry asked, making his way back over to the settee and flopping down gracelessly. At Severus's reticence, he exhaled in relief, "Good, I'd rather eat in here as well. Why don't you sit down?"

Severus eyed him warily but finally made his way to the opposite end of the settee. He sat down stiffly and stared at Harry as if he had something he wanted to ask, but wasn't sure how to phrase it.

"Hermione told me you talked today," Harry finally took pity on him. Severus gave a slight nod. "Is there anything you'd like to talk with me about? Anything you'd like to ask me?"

"I do not wish to make you uncomfortable," Severus responded.

"It won't upset me," Harry assured him. "You must have _some_ questions," he sighed. "You look like you're ready to bolt at any second. Is there anything I can do to…help? Anything I can say?"

Severus paused before answering him. "Perhaps, if you showed me," he led.

"Well, I do have some photographs," Harry deliberately misunderstood.

Severus's face fell slightly. "I suppose that would be a start."

"Unless you had something else in mind," Harry straightened up on the couch.

Severus pressed his lips together, clearly deliberating whether or not he should ask Harry to see his memories. "I find it difficult to believe the Dark Lord is…gone," he settled on that piece of information, quite sure Harry wouldn't have any photographs of that nature lying around.

Harry brightened, pleased that Severus wasn't asking to see memories of the two of them right away. "I can show you my memories of that," he offered.

"Are you familiar with Legillimency?" Severus asked, going for his wand.

"Yes," Harry grimaced. "We don't use that with each other. It isn't very…pleasant. I've got a Pensieve, though." He stood and made his way to the other side of the room to a shut door. "It's in my office," he said as he opened the door and made his way inside.

Severus followed and once he was in the study, saw the Pensieve sitting on a stone column. Harry was already taking his wand and removing the silver-blue strands of memory from his temple and depositing them into the basin. Once he had finished, he replaced his wand in its holster and stepped back.

"All right," Harry gestured to the memories swirling in the Pensieve. "This is everything relevant I could think of. I can go in with you, or…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"I believe I would prefer to view your memories alone," Severus hoped Harry wouldn't be offended.

"Of course," Harry nodded politely. "I'll be…right here."

Severus stepped up to the stone basin and put his hands on either side, watching the memories float around in a thick mist. He glanced up at Harry for the barest of seconds before he lowered his head and fell into the first memory.

_Severus landed on the grass on the grounds outside the castle. He was unsure of what he was supposed to be seeing, until he heard someone crying softly behind him. He nearly whipped out his wand until he reminded himself this was a memory and no one could attack him. He turned and saw a young girl being tended to by another._

_"…I just want to go home…" _

_Severus couldn't hear what the other girl was saying. He sucked in a breath at the sight of the fire-red hair of the older student. He heard something by his side and he turned to see its source, but there was nothing there. Suddenly, he realized there _was_ someone there, but they were invisible – either through a Disillusionment charm or some sort of cloak. He wasn't sure how he knew, but it was a memory, and he supposed it had something to do with that. He heard the person walking toward the Forbidden Forest, and he followed closely behind. Not too far into the forest, he saw the invisibility cloak come off and he blinked in disbelief when he saw a younger Harry standing in front of him. He saw Harry pull something out of his pocket and whisper unintelligible words before taking something out and flipping it in his hands a few times. The Harry-memory then began to talk as if there were people around him. What he was saying made little sense, but Severus noticed he was crying. Then Harry started walking again, deeper into the forest. Severus froze upon hearing two other voices – voices he recognized. He wanted to shout at Harry, to tell him that the two men speaking were Death Eaters. He knew that no good would come to Harry if he kept walking in their direction, but there was nothing he could do._

_Finally, Harry came upon a clearing and Severus's blood ran cold when he saw the crowds of Death Eaters flanking the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord looked hideously disfigured compared to when Severus had seen him last. He had no clue as to how the man could have altered his appearance so drastically – or why. Severus realized he had missed the important parts of the conversation between Harry and the Dark Lord when he saw the latter raise his wand at the boy – who did not seem to be defending himself – and utter the Killing Curse, sending a streak of green light square into his chest._

_Severus lurched forward as Harry's body was lifted up into the air, but the memory dissolved and Severus was taken into a second one, this time inside the Great Hall._

_Harry and the Dark Lord were dueling atop one of the long tables in the Hall, and without warning, they both cried out curses at the same time, their wands connecting in a burst of light. Severus watched in awe as the young man slowly advanced on the Dark Lord, bringing the evil wizard to his knees. Suddenly, the green light of the Killing Curse was forced back into the Dark Lord's wand and he vaulted backwards, landing spread-eagle on the stone floor. Severus stood, rooted to the spot as he watched the entire Hall erupt into cheers as the pronouncement of death was made. The memory began to dissolve and Severus felt himself lifting out of the Pensieve._

"You died," Severus's voice held both awe and despair.

"I did," Harry nodded.

Severus shook his head in confusion. "I don't…"

"Sort of," Harry clarified. "Long story – for another day."

"He is truly gone, isn't he," Severus leaned against the desk for support.

"He is," Harry confirmed.

"I didn't see myself in the forest clearing," Severus narrowed his eyes.

"You weren't there," Harry nearly shrugged.

"I also did not see myself in the Great Hall," Severus tilted his head slightly, not relaxing his gaze.

"You weren't there, either," Harry put the memories back into his head with the tip of his wand.

"And I was not present at either location because…" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"You died," Harry finished bluntly.

Severus's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Sort of," Harry clarified again. "Long story – for another day," Harry hoped he could get away with that pronouncement twice.

"I think I should be allowed to hear that story now, if you don't mind," Severus stood up and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking every bit the imposing professor.

Harry stifled a laugh. "All right," he acquiesced. "But over dinner, yeah? I'm famished."

Severus gave a quiet _harrumph_ and followed Harry out to the dining nook where food appeared as they sat down. Harry immediately took a large spoonful of soup, but swallowed hastily at an incredulous glare from Severus, choking on the hot liquid.

"Right," Harry wiped the soup spray off of his shirt. "You eat, I'll talk."

Severus looked as if he had no intention of doing anything until he understood the circumstances surrounding his 'sort of' demise.

"Erm," Harry took a swig of juice to buy him some time. "You got bitten by a snake."

Severus's eyebrows shot into his hairline. Harry wiped the excess juice off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Voldemort's snake," he added. Severus flinched at the use of the name, then his eyebrows raised even further in disbelief.

"The Dark Lord had a snake?" was all Severus could manage to get out.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, taking a bite of sandwich. Severus glared at him for taking the time to chew, so Harry swallowed noisily and took another gulp of juice. "Nagini. He had turned her into a horcrux." Harry thought Severus's eyebrows might disappear.

"The Dark Lord acquired a snake," he ticked the information off on his fingers. "He named that snake 'Nahgeenee,'" he drew out the pronunciation. "He turned it into a horcrux, and then it bit me?"

"Pretty much," Harry avoided eye contact as he began his pudding.

"I cannot believe I was careless enough to let myself be bitten by a snake," Severus shook his head arrogantly.

"You weren't," Harry spoke with a full mouth.

Severus looked at him with undisguised disdain.

Harry swallowed before he continued. "Voldemort," (Severus flinched) "ordered her to attack you."

Severus stilled, suddenly uncomfortable. "Ordered?"

"He," Harry began, but didn't want to try and explain the Elder Wand saga to Severus. "He thought he could get something important if he killed you. But instead of killing you himself, he made his snake bite you." Severus just stared at him. "She was really poisonous," Harry tacked on.

Severus looked like he wanted to roll his eyes and swat Harry on the side of the head. "I surmised as much. And I am assuming she was not poisonous, but venomous, since she bit me and I did not ingest her."

"Oh, right," Harry nodded, used to Severus correcting his misuse of words. He bent toward the table to finish off his pudding, but he saw Severus staring at him expectantly. "Oh," he sat up. "You almost died. I thought you died, actually. Turns out, you had a hidden portkey that took you to a private house and your elf took care of you. Saved your life. You were transferred to St. Mungo's after about a week so they could finish your healing."

"I have an elf?"

Harry nodded.

"And a private house?"

Harry nodded again.

"And these," Severus brought his hands to his throat, tracing the scars that lay there. "These are from the bite, then."

Harry nodded a third time.

"I thought I had gotten them through some other means, but now their strange shape is explained."

Harry almost nodded once more, but felt a bit ridiculous, so he settled on spooning his final bite of pudding into his mouth.

Severus stared at him with one eyebrow raised. "Do you always eat as though you have been starved for weeks on end?"

Harry laughed. "Pretty much."

Severus shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"You're always trying to improve my manners," Harry chukled, leaning back in his chair and shoving away from the table slightly.

"I was wondering," Severus began after he had swallowed a sip of his wine. "Perhaps I could see some other memories."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"There are some things I need to know," Severus continued. "If – if the counter potion does not work, I shall need your assistance to be able to live some semblance of a normal life."

"Are you sure it won't upset you?" Harry worried.

"No," Severus was honest. "But if I am to begin doing anything at all with some sense of normalcy, I shall have to at least be aware of the two decades missing from my mind."

Harry nodded in resignation and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and face in his hands. "You're probably right," he agreed. "Do you want to see some now? Or would you rather wait until tomorrow?"

"I believe the sooner I regain some understanding of the missing time, the better," Severus took another sip of wine.

Harry let out a long sigh. "All right. Well, finish your dinner and come into my study when you're done. I'll have some ready for you."

Severus watched as Harry walked out of the dining nook and noticed his shoulders were slightly hunched, as if he was trying to hide some sort of sadness about something. Severus wasn't sure what that might be. Short of seeing how he and Harry had become involved, the only other thing Severus wanted to personally witness before he fell asleep tonight was the death of Albus Dumbledore. He wasn't sure Harry had been there, so he may not even have a memory for Severus to see, and so he hadn't asked to see that memory first. He thought perhaps that might make things easier for Harry if he asked to see another memory that didn't involve their relationship. He took a final bite of his pudding and stood up from the table, making his way into Harry's study.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Thank you for your patience, my loyal readers...I promise I'm writing whenever I can! A 9-month-old and a full-time job take up a lot of time! I hope you enjoy the chapter!_

_Same disclaimers apply_

* * *

Severus knocked softly on the door frame before entering the study. Harry looked up, clearly surprised that Severus felt the need to announce his presence.

"What have you decided to show me?" Severus asked as he made his way toward the Pensieve.

"I, erm, I wasn't sure exactly what you wanted to see, so I thought maybe you'd like to see us playing chess."

Severus raised a brow. "Chess? What, exactly, would I be learning from that memory?"

Harry chuckled. "Our chess matches were less about chess and more about conversation – getting to know each other. It's sort of how we…got together." Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Would you rather I see something else?" Severus offered.

"I mean, if it's what you want to see," Harry shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'll show you. I'll show you whatever you want to see. Don't worry about me."

Severus pursed his lips, thinking about how he wanted to phrase his next request. "There is something," he began. "I'm not sure you even have memories of it," he trailed off.

"Of what?" Harry leaned forward slightly as he took his hands out of his pockets and folded his arms across his chest.

"I think I would like," Severus was hesitant. "Were you there when the Headmaster passed away?"

Harry stood stone still, not even breathing.

"I think I would be better able to deal with his death; to grieve for him, if I could see it for myself," Severus explained, filling the silence.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Harry said, barely concealing his terror. He knew, without a doubt, that a Severus who didn't remember the last two decades seeing himself murder Albus Dumbledore would be nothing short of disastrous.

"Why not?" Severus's eyes narrowed warily.

"Would you listen to me if I asked you to just trust me?"

Severus's eyes became dark slits.

"Of course not," Harry muttered.

"You said a 'friend' helped him; made sure he didn't suffer," Severus pulled the information from their previous conversation.

"That's right," Harry replied cagily.

"Do I know this person?" Severus figured that might be why Harry didn't want him to know the exact details of the Headmaster's death.

Harry stared at him silently.

"Do you even _have_ memories of his death?" Severus sounded a bit more exasperated than he meant to.

Harry continued to stare at him. "Yes," he finally gave in.

"So you _were_ there," Severus accused haughtily as he leaned against the wall next to the closed door.

"I never said I wasn't," Harry's posture became slightly defensive.

"Then do I know the person? The person that 'helped' Albus?" Severus straightened up from the wall and advanced a step toward Harry.

"Yes," Harry stood his ground.

There was a stark silence as the two of them stared each other down.

"Was it you?" Severus finally asked stonily.

"What?" Harry's eyes widened in disbelief.

"You were there," Severus reminded him. "You were there and you said I knew the person who did it. You do not want me to see the memory. It certainly isn't out of the realm of deductive reasoning to think that you were the one who kept him from suffering."

"It wasn't me," Harry said, too quickly.

"Will you show me your memory?" Severus wanted Harry to show him freely; but he wasn't afraid to use Legilimency to get what he wanted. He didn't know how strong a wizard this man was, but Severus was certain he could best him in a duel.

Harry seemed to take an extraordinarily long time to think, as if he were laying out contingency plans if something went awry.

"I'll show you the memory if you promise me two things," Harry agreed at last.

Severus considered the mandate. "Tell me what I must promise you, and then I shall decide if I can, indeed, promise those things."

"First," Harry held up one finger. "You have to promise you will not be angry with the person who did it."

Severus thought through the possibilities of whom he would have difficulty not having anger toward. He tried to think of the different people Albus would have asked for help. Minerva? Severus could promise not to be angry with her. Poppy? That might make sense, given that Harry said the Headmaster was cursed. He could easily not be angry with Poppy. Who else could Albus have had help him? Another professor? Severus could deal with that. What if it was someone Severus already hated? What if it was one of the Death Eaters? Lucius, or Bellatrix? He was unsure how Albus would have enlisted them, but Severus supposed he could temper his anger with someone like that.

"Very well," he agreed solemnly. "I promise."

Harry did not seem any happier about showing him the memory.

"Second," he held up another finger. "You have to promise – swear – that no matter what you see – no matter what you think or feel after you see the memory – you have to swear you won't run off."

Severus contracted his brow in confusion. "'Run off' to where?"

"Anywhere," Harry waved his hand through the air in front of him. "You have to promise to stay right here, with me, not hex anything, and let me answer any of the questions you have."

"Why do you think I would do anything else?" Severus cocked his head to the side.

"Because it's what you do," Harry accused. "When you get upset, you storm off. Normally, it's fine. It's how you work through things. I let you cool off, and we talk about it later. But today, I can't have you running about the castle when you don't remember anything. I might never find you. I don't want you to do anything drastic."

Severus was barely restraining himself from plunging into Harry's memories himself. He didn't remember the circumstances surrounding Albus's death, but he was beginning to doubt Harry's assertion that the Headmaster had been truly 'helped.' It sounded more and more like his death had been something much more sinister.

"You _have_ to promise me you won't run off," Harry repeated. He felt his wand in its holster up his sleeve. He could tell Severus was planning something; Harry wouldn't put it past him to use Legilimency to get what he wanted.

"I don't _have_ to promise you anything," Severus replied acerbically, his frustration nearly getting the better of him. The tension was thick in the air, both men clearly ready to draw their wands. Severus warred with himself internally. "But I will," he consented.

Harry hesitated before he finally drew his wand and began removing memories from his temple, apparently placated by Severus's pronouncement that he would not go complete mad at the sight of what Harry knew to be several incredibly disturbing memories.

Harry finally replaced his wand, finished with his task. Severus started toward the Pensieve, but stopped short when he saw Harry place his hands on the side, as if he were going to view the memories as well.

"I would prefer to view the memories alone," Severus made sure his tone conveyed that this was not a request.

"No," Harry denied him. "I'm coming with you this time."

Severus opened his mouth to protest.

"It's non-negotiable," Harry cut him off. "Trust me; you'll want me with you."

Severus was about to retort that he had no business trusting Harry, whom he didn't know from a stone in the wall, but was again stayed by the man.

"Look," Harry sighed, taking his hands off the side of the Pensieve. "I know you're used to getting your way. You hate it when you don't. And I know you don't know me from Adam, and you think that because I'm young you can overpower me to get what you want."

Severus did not hide the scoff that escaped from his lips.

"But you saw the other memory. I killed Voldemort," (Severus, surprisingly, did not flinch) "That alone should tell you something."

Severus narrowed his eyes in a calculating glare, clearly sizing Harry up.

"I'm not backing down," Harry reiterated. "If you want to see this memory tonight, I'm coming with you." Harry wanted to ask Severus what he was so afraid of that he wanted to watch the memories alone, but he knew better than to suggest that Severus was weak in any way.

After a brief pause, Severus's face became blank, and then his lips curled into a sneer as he tilted his head to the side. "As you wish," he waved his hand in front of him, inviting Harry to set himself up on one side of the Pensieve as he placed his hands on the other side.

Harry suppressed a groan as he recognized the face and undercurrent of sarcasm. He knew he would pay for his demand later, and as he didn't know _this_ Severus very well, he could only wait in dread for what that retribution would be.

Both men gripped the sides of the Pensieve tightly enough to whiten their knuckles, and their eyes locked. Harry could see the set of Severus's jaw and read the fury in his eyes at the idea of Harry joining him in the Pensieve. Harry knew Severus would see the fear in his own eyes, but he waited until Severus lowered his own head before Harry followed him into the swirling mist.

_Severus landed gently and immediately recognized his surroundings. He was in the Headmaster's office, and he turned as he felt Harry land beside him. His attention was captured by the two men up front at the desk: the Headmaster, and himself. He made his way up so he could hear their conversation. His eyes widened in shock when he saw the Headmaster's hand. He immediately knew the hand had been cursed by some dark object. He saw himself examining Albus's hand and recognized the defeat and pain in his own eyes as he heard himself say there was nothing that could be done. He found himself mirroring his memory-self's consternation at watching the old man examine his hand as though it were some artifact to be studied with interest. He felt his heart stop as he heard the request. He didn't believe it; he could not have heard correctly. He looked over to Harry, who was watching him warily._

_"Did Albus just ask me to murder him?" Severus's voice was barely above a whisper, but the deep tenor held the undisguised terror at the realization of why Harry had been so hesitant about the memory._

_Harry gave one curt nod._

_Severus snapped his head back to the two men at the desk; he was nearly shouting at the Headmaster. "Did I just agree?" Severus swallowed audibly._

_Harry nodded again, the movement barely perceptible._

_Severus began to shake his head in denial, the motion involuntary. The memory dissolved and Severus and Harry were surrounded by a new memory, this one on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, where Severus was once again seemingly angry with Albus. He caught the tail end of what was likely a rant._

_"…perhaps you assume too much!" he heard himself shout._

_Severus's breath quickened as he heard himself, once again, agree to commit the most heinous act imaginable._

_The memory dissolved once more and Severus now found himself on one of the castle towers, literally. He stood, wand pointed chest-high at the Headmaster. He was surrounded by several Death Eaters and what looked to be a young version of Lucius Malfoy. His heart pounded in his ears and he felt the blood draining from his face as he hyperventilated. He heard – saw – Albus pleading for his life._

_"No," his voice cracked. "No," he shook his head erratically._

_The green light streaked from his wand and hit the Headmaster squarely in the chest, sending him over the parapet into the blackness of the night._

_The memory remained for several moments more; moments where Severus could not feel any of his limbs and could not breathe. Finally, things dissolved into blackness and he pulled himself out of the abyss._

"Severus!" Harry shouted as the man nearly knocked the Pensieve off its pedestal in his haste to flee the room. Harry spent only a brief second deciding whether to replace his memories or to follow Severus. He gave an exasperated huff and followed, the anxiety, fear, and disgust still radiating in the air as it poured off Severus's body.

As Harry came into the sitting room, he saw Severus pacing back and forth rapidly, his hands pulling at his hair as if he meant to yank it out by force.

"No," he was muttering to himself. "No…"

Without warning, Severus turned and made to leave the quarters through the front door.

"Severus, no!" Harry ran and launched himself, knocking them both to the ground as he collided with Severus.

The both grunted as they hit the stone floor, and he felt Severus struggle beneath him. He knew how strong the man was, and he knew it would be in vain if he tried to subdue him physically. Harry loathed to use magic on Severus – it was something they never, _ever_ did, but he knew it was essential that he not let Severus storm out in this emotional state. Before he had time to think much more than that, Severus had maneuvered himself out from underneath Harry and bolted upright, his wand drawn, pointed squarely at Harry's head. Severus's chest was heaving, although his face was completely void of any color.

"Don't. Move. A muscle," Severus growled dangerously.

Harry closed his eyes in a long blink, and then opened them, not looking away. He was at a loss for words.

"What. Did you do to that memory?" Severus demanded, sparks flying from the tip of his wand.

Harry was perplexed. "Do?"

Severus drew in several labored breaths. "That memory can_not_ be true."

Harry swallowed, thoroughly expecting to be cursed, "But it is."

"Where were you?" Severus commanded.

"When?" Harry sighed.

"All of it," Severus was shouting, now. "Any of it!"

"May I stand up?" Harry worked very hard to not roll his eyes, figuring that would be sure-fire way to be cursed into oblivion.

"No!" Severus cried. "Where were you?!"

"The first memory was yours. You showed it to me. I wasn't actually there." Harry waited.

"Go on," Severus jerked his chin up.

"The second memory was mine. I was under my invisibility cloak. I was out of bounds." He paused again.

"And – the last memory?" Severus's jaw twitched perilously.

"I was immobilized. Against the wall, under my invisibility cloak. The Headmaster and I had arrived there not long before. He wanted me to get you. I wasn't able to before Draco came up."

Severus's brow contracted. "Draco?"

"Malfoy," Harry clarified.

Severus shook his head, refocusing on his rage. "I don't – I cannot believe – I…" he stammered into silence.

There was a long pause, both men staring at each other.

"May I get up now?" Harry finally asked again.

Severus closed his eyes, clearly in emotional pain. He sucked in a breath and lowered his wand. "Of course," he opened his eyes.

Harry brushed off his arse and smoothed out his shirt. "I'm sorry," he tried to convey his sincerity. He opened his mouth to say something else, but nothing came to mind.

Severus blinked rapidly, his face delayed in schooling itself into an impassive mask. Harry supposed this younger version of Severus hadn't mastered the instantaneous reflex.

"It was complicated," Harry eventually tried to give Severus some sort of comfort.

Severus just shook his head in disbelief.

"You're not going to run again, are you?" Harry wanted to sit down and talk with Severus, but he wasn't going to make a move until he was sure Severus wasn't going to escape and go torture himself.

Severus swallowed, shaking his head. "No."

Harry made his way over to the settee and sat down, trying not to flop. Severus sat down across from him on the far end, his body still rigid with incredulity. Harry stared at Severus while Severus stared at the fire. Slowly, color came back to Severus's face.

"I suppose now you wish you'd gone for the chess match," Harry chanced a go at humor.

Severus snapped his head to look at Harry, confusion and pain evident in his eyes. Suddenly, his features softened and his mouth made itself into a mangled smile.

"I suppose," he finally.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I apologize that it has taken *forEVER* to post this. I swear I have been wanting to write, but just haven't had the time. I know it doesn't seem like it, but the story *is* almost done. Probably like, 3 more chapters. I will do my best to write and post them in a timely manner, but...please still love me even if it takes a while! Anyway, Happy Easter to all my loyal readers!

Same disclaimers apply.

* * *

Severus came out of the washroom and saw Harry packed for the evening, standing next to the fireplace.

"I'm off, then," Harry said as he grabbed some Floo powder. "I'll see you in the morning."

Severus considered something, then spoke.

"You should stay here tonight."

"Here?" Harry's eyebrows shot up. "With you?"

"Well," Severus sat down on the sofa and crossed his arms and legs. "It has been nearly two weeks. I feel badly putting you out of house and home." He paused before continuing. "And my continued existence has convinced me that neither you, nor anyone else, will cause me any harm."

Harry's overnight bag slid the floor as he stared in disbelief.

"You should start living here again." Severus finished, waiting for Harry's response.

"Only if you let me take the sofa," he finally replied.

Severus almost denied that request, but thought better of it. If he could allow Harry back into his own quarters and he had to let him sleep on the sofa to do it, rather than the other way around, he had no issue losing that battle.

"Very well," Severus conceded.

Harry's face broke into a bright smile. "I'll just send a message to them, then. Let them know I'll not be coming." He pulled out his wand and conjured a patronus and sent it on its way. "So," he continued. "What have you been doing in the evenings after I've left?"

"Mostly reading," Severus admitted. "There are some volumes here I'm sure I've read before but don't remember, so I've had plenty of new material."

Harry flicked his wand and his overnight bag vanished. Severus heard it plop on the floor in the bedroom.

"Is there anything you're working on now?" Harry sat on the far end of the sofa.

Severus shook his head. "No, actually," he paused. "I must confess an ulterior motive for asking you to stay this evening."

Harry's brow rose again.

"I was hopeful that you might be willing to show me some more of your memories. It's been a while since the…" he trailed off. Harry let him find the words himself. "Albus's…that memory. I believe I am sufficiently recovered and should like to see what you previously offered."

Harry contracted his brow and cocked his head.

"Chess match?" Severus reminded him.

"Oh!" Harry's face brightened. "Right. Would you like to see one of the early ones or one of the later ones?"

Severus thought about that for a moment. He wasn't sure if the early ones would give him the information he sought, but he worried the later ones might prove too uncomfortable for him to watch. "You should share the memories with which you feel the most comfortable," he finally settled on allowing Harry to decide, sure the man would be more reserved in his choices; so Severus did not worry about the content.

"All right," Harry stood up from his end of the settee and straightened his trousers and shirt before heading to the study. Once they both were inside, he began removing several strands of memory from his temple, depositing them into the Pensieve. "Do you," he began, once he had finished placing the memories in the basin. "Do you wish to view them alone or with me?"

Severus was feeling magnanimous this evening, so he extended an olive branch to the man who was still, for all intents and purposes a stranger to him, but who had shown him nothing but courtesy, respect, and help. "Whichever you prefer," he offered.

Harry did not conceal his look of surprise at the choice being left up to him. He knew Severus to be someone who loathed passive-aggressiveness, so he figured the man really was leaving it up to him to decide. He inhaled deeply, but quickly, "I'd really like to go with you."

Severus stepped up to the edge of the basin and waved his arm in front of him. "After you, then."

Harry gave him a quirked smile before dipping down into the mist.

_They both landed in the sitting room of their quarters, and Severus immediately saw the two of them, seated opposite each other in the two armchairs. The chairs had been pulled to the center of the room and a chess game sat between them on an end table. Memory-Harry sat in the chair with his legs folded under him, slightly sideways, clearly comfortable and disarmed. He saw himself leaned back in the chair, legs crossed and one hand under his chin – the picture of a man at ease with his company._

"_Have you thought any more about Minerva's offer?" Severus asked._

_Harry sighed. "Yeah, but…I'm not sure about the timing. I've just put together a new team and some of them still need training."_

"_You just finished training," Severus smirked. He flicked his free hand and his knight captured one of Harry's pawns._

"_A year ago," Harry shifted in the chair, surveying the board._

_Severus stared at Harry rather than the board. "Well, it seems far more recent."_

_Harry chuckled, shaking his head, still focused on his next move._

"_Someone else could lead your team," Severus pointed out the obvious. His eyes were on Harry's face, roving over the different features._

_Harry flicked his finger, finally settling on moving one of his bishops. He looked back up, but Severus had already refocused on the game board._

"_I know, but…" he rested his chin in his hand, elbow propped up on the arm of the chair. "I'm not sure being here would be the right thing."_

_Severus looked up, move forgotten. His brow wrinkled, "Why not?"_

_Harry locked eyes with him, mouth hung open, trying to figure out a way to phrase his concern. He closed his jaw. "I wouldn't want things to be…awkward." _

_Severus straightened up and folded his arms across his chest, his face curious. "Awkward how, exactly?"_

_Harry breathed in slowly, buying himself time. "Well, there are students here who…you know, know me. Knew me, from when I was still a student. That might be…difficult."_

"_I hardly think that should be the only reason keeping you from taking the Defence position," Severus challenged him. "You've been gone over two years, now. You'd be teaching the lower classes – the first and second years would only know you by reputation. A sterling one, at that."_

_Harry's mouth opened and closed once more. "The staff," he blurted out. "I don't think they would see me as an equal. I'd still be a student to them."_

"_If I am able to overcome that obstacle," Severus drawled, "I assure you, the others would take no issue with it."_

_Harry was quiet; he looked at the fire and then down at the chess board. "You consider me an equal?" he nearly whispered._

"_I do," Severus confirmed, eyes still locked on Harry's face._

"_You wouldn't…mind it…if I were here? If you had to see me every day?"_

_Severus paused as if considering that sacrifice. "I suppose I could be persuaded to endure the suffering that would come with being subjected to your obnoxious, Gryffindor ways."_

_Harry's face snapped up, a wide, bright grin on his face. "Obnoxious, yeah?"_

"_Dreadfully," Severus pretended to roll his eyes._

"_You really wouldn't mind?" Harry was serious again._

"_Why do you think I would mind?" Severus had genuine curiosity._

"_I just," Harry began to fidget, a sure sign of his nerves kicking in. "I mean, I'm here almost every weekend, now, I would understand if you wanted – needed – a break from me. If you didn't want to see me every day." Harry was visibly tense, ready for his insecurity to be torn open like a raw wound. _

_The present-day Severus could see clearly how much Harry cared for the memory-Severus. He also saw in his own eyes that the memory-Severus was very aware of Harry's feelings, but wasn't letting on that he knew._

"_Believe me, Harry, if I wanted my weekends to myself, I would have no qualms telling you so. As for seeing you daily, I am unsure why I would not want that. One usually enjoys spending more time with those whom they find engaging company." Severus looked like he wanted to say more, but was stopped by the look on Harry's face. "Have I said something?" he asked._

"_You called me 'Harry'," he said with an expression that seemed to be a mixture of awe and trepidation._

"_I was under the impression that is your name," Severus replied._

"_You've never called me 'Harry' before," he shook his head infinitesimally. Severus was silent. "Why are you calling me 'Harry' now?"_

"_I thought it appropriate," Severus answered._

"_Appropriate for what?" Harry eyed him warily._

"_Well, first of all, you call me 'Severus,' it seems only respectful I should return the favor and call you by your first name. Second, if you were to accept the Defence position here, I would be referring to you either as 'Professor Potter' or 'Harry,' and as it seemed odd to use the former, given that you are not, as of yet, a professor, 'Harry' seemed more appropriate."_

_Harry opened his mouth but shut it abruptly, realizing Severus had more to say._

"_Finally," Severus leaned forward and folded his hands, forearms resting on his thighs, "People who care for each other should use given names. It is the most appropriate thing to do."_

_The present-day Severus could see the racing pulse beating in memory-Harry's neck. He could also feel the present-day Harry looking at him out of the corner of his eye._

"_Care for each other?" memory-Harry breathed, lips barely moving._

"_Do you not believe that I care for you, Harry?" Severus looked almost hurt._

"_Care for me? Or about me?" Harry braced himself. "Because those two are different feelings. You cared for my mum. I believe that you care about me. But I think," Harry stopped suddenly. He inhaled sharply and sat up straight. "I can't take the position," he announced with finality in his voice._

_Severus narrowed his eyes. "Because I care about you?"_

_Harry thought for a moment as he framed his response. "Yes," he said finally. "And if I were here, seeing you every day, I'm sure I'd do something eventually to undo that. I value your friendship, Severus. No position is worth mucking it up."_

_Present-day Severus could see that his memory-self knew there was more to that statement than what came through on the surface, but he also saw that his memory-self had recognized that now would be the appropriate time to end the conversation._

"_I appreciate that, Harry," Severus inclined his head. "I value our relationship as well. If you think it would be in jeopardy if you were to work here, then I am glad you are willing to put us ahead of your career."_

_It was clear that memory-Harry had not missed the deliberate usage of the terms 'relationship' and 'us' in Severus's thanks. Harry opened his mouth slowly, a confused look growing on his face._

"_I should go," he said, rising from the armchair._

"_Of course," Severus gave him a slight smile, not trying to stop his departure. "Have a pleasant week," he called as Harry stepped through the green flames and whirled out of sight. He gave a flick of his finger and his chess piece moved. "Check," he called out to the empty room._

Harry and Severus resurfaced from the Pensieve.

"You showed me that last bit after we finally got together," Harry explained. "You thought it was funny."

Severus raised his eyebrow in skepticism.

"Does that memory help at all?" Harry seemed hopeful.

"It does answer some questions, yes," Severus admitted. "But it did not do anything for the state of my own memory."

Harry's face fell fractionally. "Didn't really expect it to," he confessed. "Full moon's right around the corner, so hopefully things will be better for you soon."

Severus sighed. He was beginning to think that being over-optimistic was not a random thing with Harry, but a general personality flaw. He tried not to roll his eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: My birthday was yesterday (4/7), so here is my present to you!_

_Same disclaimers apply_

* * *

Harry woke to the sounds of muffled shouting coming from behind the closed bedroom door. He scrambled out of his transfigured bed and grabbed his wand, darting over to open the door. Upon his entry, he saw Severus thrashing about in the sheets, clearly in the throes of a nightmare.

"Sopophorous," he whispered, knowing the spell would do little to free Severus from his nightmare. When it proved as useless as he had predicted, he gave a resigned sigh and made his way over to the bed, placing his wand on the nightstand. _His_ nightstand…the wistful thought was quickly banished when Severus gave a particularly loud shout.

Harry climbed gingerly into the bed next to Severus and placed his hand on the man's forehead, which was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

"Shhhh," Harry whispered, stroking Severus's hair out of his face. The touch of his hand seemed to calm Severus immediately, and his body slowly stopped jerking itself around and relaxed.

Severus turned instinctively toward the source of his comfort and let out a few quiet noises of contentment before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. Harry gave a lopsided smile that quickly turned into a pained expression as he fought to keep back the tears. He inhaled deeply and decided to chance things by staying at Severus's side for the remainder of the night. He conjured his own blanket, deciding that curling up under the covers with the man was just an invitation for disaster. He nodded off to the sound of Severus's soft snores.

Severus awoke in stages. He remembered having a nightmare while he slept, but didn't remember waking himself up. _Odd_, he thought to himself. He had the strangest feeling that there had been someone in bed with him last night, and without opening his eyes, he reached over and felt the bed, which was empty. _Of course it was empty_. He was alone. His eyes flew open. Not completely alone; Harry had stayed the night. He sat up suddenly and looked to his left: the pillow had a dent in it. So did the comforter.

_How __dare__ he!_

Severus flung back the covers and snatched his wand from beneath his pillow. Without bothering to change out of his bedclothes (or use the loo), he stormed out into the sitting room, wand drawn.

"What did you do to me last night?!" he shouted at Harry, who was sitting on the settee.

Harry's head snapped up from the morning's Prophet, startled.

"Pardon?" his eyes wide with incredulity.

"You _slept_ with me last night," Severus hissed through his teeth, his stare murderous. "You _violated_ me." He couldn't believe he had trusted Harry to stay the night; he truly barely knew the man…of course he would take advantage of Severus as he slept, defenseless…

"Oh, for the love of…I didn't sleep _with_ you, I slept next to you. And I didn't violate you. For Merlin's sake, Sev, you had a nightmare."

"What right does that give you to take advantage of me in my sleep?" Severus was advancing on Harry like a predator stalking its prey.

"I didn't want to hear you scream," Harry shook his head, folded the paper and placed it on the end table, then crossed his arms with irritation.

"Do they not teach _silencing_ charms anymore?" Severus questioned snidely.

Harry stood, hands on his hips. "It wasn't the noise I was concerned with."

Severus narrowed his eyes. Harry stared back, finally closing his eyes and shaking his head in frustration.

"I wanted to help you," he said with slightly more force than was necessary. "You don't have them when we're together. And if you do, I take care of you."

"I don't need your help," Severus spat.

Harry's eyes filled with angry tears. "This is hard on me, too!" He whipped out his wand and waved it with a flourish. Severus flinched and cast a Protego, before realizing Harry had simply summoned his overnight bag. Without a word, he spun on his heel and threw a handful of Floo powder into the grate, whirling away in a green blaze.

When the flames died down, Severus stared at the empty fireplace and lowered his wand. He glanced back at the settee and saw the folded Prophet sitting on the end table. He suddenly felt a crashing wave of guilt and closed his eyes, biting his lip with remorse. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, went back into the bedchamber to change, and resolved to find out where Harry went. He knew he would have to ask Minerva, but he was nervous about maneuvering around the students before he remembered it was Sunday and there would be no mad dashing for change of classes. He let himself out of the rooms and walked briskly toward the Gryffindor Head-of-House rooms before halting and pushing down a pang of sorrow, realizing she would now be in the Headmaster – mistress's office. Heels clicking loudly in the mostly deserted stone corridor, he made his way to the gargoyle.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione's eyes glistened with tears to hear the morning's events.

"Yeah, mate, that's…" Ron trailed off, not seeming able to find a word appropriate for the severity of his friend's grief.

"Well, the full moon's tomorrow," Hermione's expression brightened. "I'll be coming over in the afternoon and helping to gather ingredients and start the antidote."

"Yeah, but then it'll take a month to brew," Harry's response was muffled since his head was buried in his arms, which were crossed on the kitchen table.

"A month?" Hermione was puzzled. "What do you mean a month to brew?"

"Sev told me right after he looked at the potion that his counter potion would take about a month to brew."

"Oh!" Hermione looked excited. "After we worked together that afternoon, we decided to try to brew a trial that will only take a few hours. If that doesn't work, then we'll try the longer version. Didn't he tell you?"

"No," Harry had raised his head at Hermione's information.

"Well, he's had a lot on his mind, hasn't he?" Ron tried to justify.

"I suppose," he wasn't convinced. "Only a day?"

"He should be able to try it tomorrow night," Hermione smiled at him and patted his arm.

Harry's heart picked up his pace. "Do you think it'll work?"

"I hope so," she gave him a sympathetic look.

"How do you even know what to try?" Harry sat back and exchanged a knowing glance with Ron at the look that appeared on Hermione's face. Any opportunity to explain something made her positively giddy.

"Well," she began. "Do you remember in sixth year how Slughorn had us working on making antidotes?"

The two men looked at each other blankly, then back at Hermione.

"Of course not," she said with an exasperated, but fond smirk.

"Well, ingredients have counterparts. So do other necessary elements in brewing a potion. If the process requires 3 clockwise stirs, then the antidote will have 3 counter-clockwise stirs. If the potion is brewed in a silver cauldron, the antidote will be brewed in a gold cauldron. If it calls for eagle's claw, the antidote might be eagle feather. Does that make sense?"

"Actually, yeah," Harry seemed surprised by his understanding. "But, then, why are neither of you sure this antidote will work?"

Hermione took in a deep breath. "Well," the air whooshed out of her lungs. "Some ingredients don't have counterparts."

Harry's face fell.

"Or at least, not obvious counterparts. But there are some ingredients that simply don't have counterparts. That's why some poisons have no antidote. There are some things you just can't undo."

"And this Half-Life Curse potion has that?" Ron, too, was following the explanation.

"Yes," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "But we're hoping that since he inhaled the fumes from a specific stage that we can make the antidote from the ingredients that had been added just up to that point." The men both looked slightly lost at that. "The final version of the curse potion can't be undone because there are ingredients used in the final steps that simply have no counterparts. But earlier stages of the potion don't have those ingredients, so we're hoping that if we brew an antidote based on the steps of the curse potion up to stage six that it will reverse the effects of the fumes."

"I think I understand," Harry said, nodding. "Do _you_ think it'll work?"

"Theory says it should," Hermione raised her shoulders in uncertainty.

"With you and Snape together, if it doesn't work, I'm pretty sure nothing will," Ron said confidently.

Hermione smacked him in the back of the head.

"What?!" he glared at her. "That was a compliment!"

Harry chuckled at their antics, glad that they could still make him smile, even with his heavy heart.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Two chapters in 10 days...this should make some people very happy...perhaps... Happy reading! :)_

_Same disclaimers apply_

* * *

_Harry was writhing underneath a long, lean, strong body. He was being assaulted with kisses to his throat, chest, and they kept trailing farther and farther down his torso. "Mmmm," he moaned, running his fingers through the long, soft, black hair that was tickling its way down to his waist. He canted his hips up and he heard a low chuckle. "Patience, love," the deep, silken tone admonished. Harry bucked up as he felt and heard the long intake of breath and the roughness of cheek sliding up his cock. He howled as he felt himself enveloped in warm wetness and he cried out before spilling himself, "Severus!"_

Harry awoke with a start to a wet pulsing beneath him. He was lying face down in the bed in his room at the Weasley's. He groaned and buried his head into his pillow, fumbling around before grabbing his wand from the nightstand and giving it a flick to remove the sticky mess underneath him. He dropped the wand back on the side table without raising his head from the pillow.

"Fuck," he cursed at no one in particular. He crawled out of bed and headed to the loo to take a shower. _Patience is overrated_, he thought to himself, remembering his dream; _definitely overrated._

As Harry toweled off from his shower, he heard a knock at the door.

"Harry?" Ron's voice was muffled.

"Yeah?" he called back.

"There's someone here to see you," Ron replied.

"Who?" Harry asked, drying his hair.

Apparently, Ron had left, because there was no answer to Harry's question.

Harry dressed and made his way downstairs, where he received a strange look from Hermione and a light jerk of her head into the sitting room, where he assumed his visitor was waiting. He had no idea who that might be, who would come to the Weasely's on a Sunday to speak with him. He stopped short when he saw the figure sitting awkwardly on the sofa.

"Hullo," Harry said gingerly as he made his way around to face Severus.

Severus inclined his head stiffly. "Minerva said you would be here. She instructed me on how to find you."

Harry didn't say anything. He sighed, not conveying anger or hostility, but tiredness, his body language giving away how haggard the situation over the past several weeks had made him. Severus looked like he had something to say but wasn't sure how – or wasn't able to. He opened his mouth and closed it abruptly, twice, before Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, relieving him of his discomfort.

"I know," he told Severus, shoving his hands into his pockets. "If anyone should know that you hex first and ask questions later, it's me. I shouldn't have done it. At least, not like that. I should have woken you up. I'm sorry, I…I just…" Harry looked down at the floor and bit his lip.

Severus stood and spoke deliberately. "I should not have reacted that way."

Harry shook his head again, eyes still on the floor.

"You have been nothing but understanding towards me since this incident occurred. I should have thought about that before…" Severus swallowed uncomfortably. "I should have thanked you for interrupting the nightmare."

Harry finally looked up at Severus, a tight smile playing at his lips. "I know you don't understand, but," Harry paused, unsure of if he should continue. "I just miss you," he turned his head and gazed out the window.

Severus stared at Harry, trying not to see James. Although Harry was turned slightly away from him, he could still see the vibrant green eyes through the glasses frames. "I think I might understand a bit more than you realize," he responded, thinking of how much those eyes reminded him of Lily. His face hardened. He would not think of her now.

There was an awkward silence between them until Ron stumbled into the room, followed closely by Hermione, who was clearly trying to stop him.

"Oh," he mumbled, sensing the tension in the air. "Sorry."

Hermione rolled her eyes and swatted him on the arm. "_I'm_ sorry," she said, looking at Harry. "I thought maybe you'd both like to head back over to Hogwarts and get the ingredients for the antidote?"

Severus visibly relaxed, thankful to be saved from his awkward apology – or what he hoped had passed for an apology – to Harry.

Harry smiled at Hermione, genuinely glad to be reminded that there was a chance that he might have his lover back by the time he was ready for bed. _Although if that happens_, he thought to himself, _I'm pretty sure there won't be much sleeping going on_. He smirked.

Gathering the ingredients had not taken as long as Harry had anticipated, although he figured that might have something to do with the fact that, although his partner was the most highly regarded Potions Master in Britain, Harry had still not figured out how to brew so much as a basic calming draught without bollocksing it up somehow. When the foursome returned to Harry's and Severus's quarters, Hermione had announced they would be going into the laboratory to brew the antidote. Harry and Ron had followed after her and Severus, but she had shot them an exasperated look (after Severus had glared dubiously at Harry) and he realized "they" did not include Ron or himself. Hermione and Severus went into the lab and shut the door. Harry was reasonably sure she had warded it to keep them out – and probably prevent them from listening in.

Harry and Ron had sat down in front of the empty fire grate and tried to hold a decent conversation, but Harry was distractible. Ron finally suggested they play a game of chess to take Harry's mind off of the wait, and that had worked – for the first two games. Then Harry had enlisted Ron to help him mark essays. That worked until Ron became so fed up with the drivel the students had put on the paper that he swore of teaching forever. Harry suggested another game of chess.

"How much longer are they going to be?" Harry's glance stole toward the laboratory door for what must have been the hundredth time in the last half hour.

"You're asking the wrong person, mate," Ron sighed as he scoured the chess board, looking for a move to prolong the game. Harry, who wasn't usually a strong opponent, had turned this game into a useless excuse for a match, focusing his attention squarely on the laboratory door.

"How long have they been in there?" Harry tried to think about what his next move would be, but failed spectacularly, his whole body now turning to face the laboratory.

Ron glanced at his watch, and then the door. "I dunno, close to two hours?"

"They have to be done soon, then," Harry said, more to himself than to Ron. "She said it would only take a few hours."

"D'you want to go down to Hogsmeade?" Ron thought that might be a better distraction than chess. And definitely better than marking papers.

Harry snapped his head back to stare at Ron in disbelief.

"We could go fly around the pitch," Ron suggested. "You know she'll send her Patronus out to us if we're not here when they finish."

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry said with finality.

Ron shook his head and rolled his eyes in sympathy. "I'm so sorry, mate. I don't know how you're dealing with this so well. If it were me, if this had happened to Hermione…I'd be going spare."

"Yeah, well," Harry stood up and stretched. "Let's just hope the two of them together pull off the greatest magical feat of our time."

Just then, the door of the lab opened and Hermione came out, followed by Severus, who held an opaque green glass vial in his hand.

Harry dropped his arms and hurried over to Hermione, who had an expectant smile on her face.

"Well?" Harry's eyes darted between Hermione and the vial and Severus.

"It's ready," Hermione took in a deep breath.

Severus stopped walking, vial held some distance out in front of him. "Harry, I…" he paused, his brows contracting and his mouth pressing into a thin line. "I should remind you that this is not likely to work. It is a trial. You should prepare yourself – for disappointment."

"That's cheerful," Ron muttered behind Harry. Hermione threw him a warning glance.

"Well," Harry inhaled sharply. "We won't know until you try." He nodded, his head gesturing to the vial.

Severus unstoppered it, locked his eyes with Harry's, and swallowed the contents in one gulp.

Harry's eyes were trained on Severus's face, waiting for some sort of indication of success or failure. Hermione's eyes were on Harry, waiting for a reaction. Severus's eyes were on the empty vial. Seconds ticked by without so much as a breath. Finally, Harry couldn't stand it any longer.

"Well?" his body tense with anxiety, his face taut with nerves.

Severus's eyes flickered up to meet Harry's for the briefest of seconds, then went back to the vial. Without warning, he flung the vial to the floor, shattering the glass and causing Harry, Hermione, and Ron to jump. Severus whirled around and fled the room, darkness evident in every feature on his face.

The three friends stood, dumbfounded, for a moment longer, and then Hermione turned to Ron and said, in an apologetic voice, "I suppose you should go tell McGonagall to keep Slughorn on for a while longer."

Harry's heart sunk to his feet.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: WHAAAAT? Two new chapters in less than a week? Yeah, peeps, this is what can happen when you get caught up on grading and finish your own original novel. Well, sort of. Enough that I WROTE TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE WEEK! Booyah! Happy reading!_

_Same disclaimers apply_

* * *

Harry's feet softly padded up the stone steps to the Astronomy tower. He had used the Marauder's Map to find Severus, and had waited a while before going to him, wanting to give the both of them time to process the failure of the antidote. He reached the door to the tower and pushed it open slowly. He saw Severus facing away from him, black robes wrapped tightly around him. Harry knew him well enough that he could read the tension in his shoulders several paces away. He closed his eyes, feeling them moisten with tears, and took in a deep, steadying breath. He had read something, somewhere, about a Muggle disease called "Alzheimer's", which apparently robbed elderly people of their memories. He had read accounts of family members whose loved ones had the disease, and the pain they went through day after day as they watched the person stop recognizing everyone, and everything around them. Harry supposed the way he was feeling now must be something akin to that. He had no idea what was going to happen to them. He was already going through scenarios of moving out of his current quarters. He even had fleeting thoughts of leaving the castle, unsure if he could stand to see the man he loved every day, knowing Severus would never again be who he fell in love with.

He cleared his throat so he wouldn't startle the man too badly, and walked up behind him. He knew better than to place a hand on Severus's shoulder, so he just started talking. He was reasonably sure he wouldn't get hexed. At least not too badly.

"I'm sorry," he began. Severus made no discernable movement. "I know how much you hate to fail." He saw Severus tense even further and heard a sharp intake of breath. "It's okay. We'll try again. We'll find something…"

Severus cut him off harshly, "Stop. There will be no more trials. It is irreversible. I need…" he paused. "Arrangements will need to be made."

"What do you mean? You're just going to give up?" Harry's brows raised in disbelief. "You can't! We – we can do this. Hermione…you…maybe Slughorn, there must be something – Hermione mentioned a longer version of the trial," Harry was rambling.

Severus interrupted him caustically, "No. There is nothing to be done. I will vacate the quarters immediately and find alternate rooms. I need to get up to speed on the classes so I can take them back for the remainder of the year. I will have to find people whose memories I can borrow so that I can make some attempt to reconstruct the last two decades…"

This time, it was Harry who cut Severus off, "But there must be something else you can try!" His voice was laden with pleading and despair. "Don't you want to fix this?"

Severus finally turned around to face Harry, his face full of rage. Harry immediately realized he has said something wrong, and was reminded of his fifth year after he had looked in Severus's pensieve.

"Are you truly a complete idiot?" Severus spoke in low, deadly tones. "How could you possibly think I would not do absolutely everything I could to remedy this situation?"

Harry backpedaled. "I didn't mean," he tried to form an apology.

Severus's features calmed, replacing fury with a look of the deepest sadness Harry had ever seen on the man's face. "Have you ever lost someone?" he asked. "Someone you loved?"

Harry nodded jerkily.

"Has anyone you loved ever died because of something you did?" Severus paused, tension hanging pregnant in the air.

Harry's mind flashed with images of Sirius falling through the veil. "Yeah," he whispered.

"How long did it take you to deal with that pain? That guilt?" It seemed to Harry that Severus was trying to be mocking, but couldn't muster it through his intense despair.

Harry had to divert his eyes to the stones beneath his feet as he answered, "A long time." He raised his head and made eye contact with Severus again. "Years."

"What if those years were ripped away from you? What if, for you, that person had died yesterday, and everyone around you expected you to be all right with it?" Severus spoke through a clenched jaw. "What if you woke up one day and one of the only people who had ever seen any good in you had died? And you had killed him?"

Time seemed to freeze for Harry as he imagined himself in Severus's shoes, and he realized he hadn't really thought about the depth of pain the man must be in every second of every day. Harry blinked and sucked in a breath, noticing he hadn't been breathing for what seemed like quite a long time. Suddenly, his eyes began to water, and he rapidly blinked his eyes. His breath started to come in short gasps, and he started shaking, as the enormity of the situation seemed to finally hit him. Severus was gone. This man was not Severus. This man did not know him. This man did not love him. This man was a complete stranger that wanted nothing to do with him. _His_ Severus was gone. _His_ Severus had died. Harry would never again feel the warmth of his embrace, the security of him arms, the heat of his body, the passion of his kiss. Harry staggered over to the side of the tower, bracing himself against the wall with one hand, his other tearing at his robes to get them away from his neck, to stop them from choking him.

"Harry?" Severus asked worriedly as he made his way over and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Harry's face jerked up and he locked eyes with Severus. He wasn't sure what Severus saw there, but it must have been a strong emotion, for he heard words come out of Severus's mouth that nearly never did.

"I'm – sorry," Severus apologized. "If there were something I thought would…" he trailed off, his own eyes closing in pain. He straightened up. "I'll go – speak with Minerva, about moving my things."

That seemed to snap Harry out of his breakdown. "No!" he clung to Severus's forearm. "No, I'll move. The quarters were yours before I moved in. You deserve to stay there."

Severus was shaking his head, but stopped, a strange look in his eyes, bordering on a firm resolve. "I could try," he choked out.

Harry was nonplussed.

"I loved you – before. Perhaps if I saw – enough of your memories," Severus paused, gauging Harry's reaction. "I could try," he repeated.

Harry felt the feeble flutter of the wings of hope in his chest. He suppressed it, knowing that no amount of memory-watching could make up for the emotions Severus had developed for him over time.

"At least," Severus's eyes tightened. "Stay tonight, we can revisit the issue tomorrow."

"Sev," Harry began, but, unable to deny Severus anything, even now, Harry gave a tight smile, and a small nod of his head.

Severus straightened up away from Harry and cocked his head to the side seriously. "Why do I permit you to call me that?"

"Sorry," Harry apologized, "I'll stop."

"No," Severus shook his head and held out his hand. "You misunderstand me. Clearly I am accustomed to you referring to me as that, but do you – is there a reason why? There is only one person that I have ever allowed to call me that."

"My mum," Harry said, soberly.

"Lily," Severus whispered. He still had trouble reconciling this man as the baby he had briefly seen amidst the destruction of the Godric's Hollow dwelling that night.

"The first time I called you 'Sev,' you almost throttled me," Harry told him. "But you stopped, and said that it made sense that the only two people you ever truly loved should call you the same thing." Harry saw Severus's hands curl into fists by his sides. "I'll stop," Harry promised him.

Severus shook his head. "No. No, it's how I live my life now. I need to start living my life the way my – real self does."

Harry wanted to protest, but knew better. "Well," he sighed, "let's go get some dinner; I'm starving."

"Do you eat ten times a day?" Severus asked after him, as they walked down the tower steps.

Harry chuckled and shook his head gently. Severus said he would try. Harry would try, too.

Severus rolled over onto his stomach underneath the covers. His morning erection felt good against the pressure between the sheets and his body. He sighed, shaking his head at the reality that it had been far too long since any real relief, and would, in all likelihood, be even longer (if ever) before he had any again. It was still dark in his room, so he surmised that it must still be early. He cracked open one eye and saw the glow of the clock ticking on his nightstand. Six fifteen. He sighed again. At least that gave him enough time to have a leisurely wank in the shower before heading off to breakfast and his first morning class. Monday. Then it would be Gryffindors and Slytherins. Third years. Lovely. He detested teaching that combination of students.

_Teaching._

_Fuck._

Severus bolted upright out of bed, not bothering to care about his state of dress or sexual arousal as he tore into the sitting room to see a small, albeit comfortable-looking transfigured bed with a dark-haired man sleeping soundly.

"Harry!" Severus shouted, causing Harry to jerk awake and have his wand at the ready at lightning speed.

"Wha?" Harry's voice cracked, thick with sleep. "Who's…what's wrong?"

"I remember," Severus stated, leaning onto the edge of the foot of Harry's bed. He waited for the penny to drop.

"What?!" Harry dropped his wand, letting it clatter to the floor. He rubbed his eyes, perhaps to make sure he was awake, and then threw back the covers and flung himself down the length of the bed to grab Severus by the arms and pull him back onto the bed.

"Stop!" Severus lurched backwards, away from Harry, when he realized what Harry had inferred. Harry ended up landing face down with a muffled '_oof'_, and then pushed himself up with a look of confusion on his face.

Embarrassed, Harry crawled back up to the head of the bed and pulled the covers back over his lower body. "I'm sorry," he ran his fingers through his hair and picked up his glasses from the end table. "I thought you meant – the potion – I'm sorry," he finished.

"I did," Severus confirmed, emphatically.

Harry was thoroughly perplexed.

"The antidote did work. Overnight. In a way," he stopped.

Harry bent over to pick up his wand and laid it on the bed next to him. "You remember," he said, softly, his eyes watching his fingers pull at imaginary threads on the blanket. "But you still don't remember me."

"No," Severus said, and he saw Harry's hands move to his face. "No, I remember you," Severus clarified. Harry snapped his face up, eyes wide. Severus crossed his arms over his chest. "Ask me what year it is."

Harry tilted his head in a move of timid caution, "What year is it?"

"1992," Severus said, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Oh," Harry's voice dropped with a sickening feeling.

"I remember you," Severus repeated, "as a second year."

Harry unconsciously pulled the covers higher around his body.

"In my last real memory of you, you're twelve."

Harry's mouth gaped, opening and shutting like a fish out of water.

Severus raised a brow sardonically. "My thoughts exactly."


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Almost done! Happy Mother's Day (a week from today...) to all the awesome moms out there..._

_Same disclaimers apply_

* * *

"I still don't understand," Harry was still sitting in Severus's laboratory next to Ron. Severus was leaning up against one of the tables. Hermione was pacing with a fervor usually reserved for actual emergencies.

"This was when you woke up?" Hermione paused, looking up at Severus and asking the same question for the third time.

Severus didn't answer her, but looked at Harry before remarking, "She hasn't changed, has she?"

Ron stifled a chuckle.

"But why would you only remember part of what you had forgotten?" She had returned to pacing and staring at the stone floor. "And why did it take so long to work?"

"I'm really a second-year to you?" Harry found the idea disconcerting.

Severus nodded, but smirked, seeming to find the whole situation somehow amusing.

"Do you think we should make another batch? Do you think it would work again?" Hermione wasn't paying any attention to the three men, but was talking aloud to herself in a stream of consciousness. "I wonder if we could use the rest of the batch from last night. It'd be useless now, though. We'd have to wait for another full moon. How much more would you remember, though? Would it even work twice? Oh!" She stopped suddenly and spun around on her heel to face Severus. "The Half-Life curse!" she said with wide eyes, as if she'd realized something she'd previously missed.

"What?" Ron asked in confusion.

Hermione turned to look at him and Harry. "Half-Life!" she nearly shouted at them, as if repeating the words would complete the puzzle for them. "Half!" she tried again, but sighed in frustration, waving them off, and turned back to Severus. "Half-Life? Curse?"

Suddenly, a look dawned on Severus's face. It was not a look of joy, like Hermione's, but a look of dread.

"You lost roughly two decades, right?" she confirmed. Severus nodded slowly. "And now you remember just over ten years?"

"Oh!" Ron's face finally brightened as he, too, picked up on her train of logic.

"Will somebody _please_ tell me what the hell is happening?" Harry shouted at the three of them.

Hermione exhaled with a smile and turned to Harry. "The curse took away half of his memories – half of his life. The antidote replaced them, but only half – half the time that was taken away. It's a half-life antidote. I think," she turned hopefully to Severus, "if we brew another batch next month, that he'll remember another half."

"So – he'll be back to normal?" Harry felt his heart swell.

"No, mate," Ron's tone crushed Harry's hopes.

Harry shook his head, still perplexed.

"Theoretically," Hermione explained, "the next batch would give him back half of what he had before – so, half of ten years."

"So he'd remember five more years?" Harry furrowed his brow in concentration.

"Right," Ron confirmed.

"And then…half…of that…" Harry's joy turned to horror. "But…but…" he sputtered.

"Yes," Severus finally entered the conversation.

"That will take forever!" Harry cried out. "You'll never get it all back!"

Severus shrugged. "It _is_ better than the alternative," he reminded him.

"But you'll only get back your memory up to…" Harry tried to do the mental math.

"Sometime in 2003," Ron finished for him.

Everyone turned to look at Ron in amazement.

"What?" he shrugged. "Chess is related to Maths."

"A year of brewing will bring me up to mid-late 2003," Severus clarified for Harry.

"A year of brewing?" Harry repeated in disbelief. "A whole year?"

"We can only brew it on the full moon, so, yes. A whole year."

"Well, can't you save some of the potion and just have him take another dose every night?" Ron asked.

Harry looked expectantly between Severus's and Hermione's faces.

"Well," Hermione didn't look convinced, "I suppose we could try that."

"But what if you can't?" Harry despaired. "It'll take at least a year; and what if it doesn't work like that? What if he's stuck in –" Harry stopped abruptly.

Hermione glanced between Harry and Severus, who seemed to be having a moment. "Why don't we give you two some time alone?" she suggested. "I can come back later and we can talk about what we might be able to do."

Harry shook his head to clear it. "Right. Yeah, ok. We'll – I'll owl you later."

Hermione nudged Ron out of the lab and left Harry sitting on a stool and Severus leaning against the table.

It was several minutes before either of them spoke.

"For what it's worth," Severus began, moving away from the table, "I am sorry."

Harry looked at him, nonplussed. "For what? This wasn't your fault."

"Ah," Severus clarified, "not for the antidote issue. For my actions toward you – your first and second year."

"Oh," Harry looked surprised. "Well, thanks."

Severus had a serious look on his face. "No, truly, I apologize. My treatment of you has been horrid, and completely inexcusable. Gaining a decade of perspective overnight; coupling it with the current knowledge I have, it warrants an apology."

Harry sighed and shook his head, standing and starting to pace. "I know; but I get it. You had a role to play; you only saw my father; I reminded you constantly of the worst decision you ever made. You had every reason to be a complete bastard."

"No," Severus was adamant, "you were a child. You had done nothing wrong." He paused, "Well, nothing specifically to me. It was inexcusable. Please, tell me this did not continue? Please tell me I stopped."

"You didn't," Harry said bluntly. "In fact, it only got worse. You threw a jar of cockroaches at my head once."

Severus looked scandalized. Harry smirked.

"Look, it's all right. I've moved beyond that."

If Severus had thought their relationship unlikely before, he now was positively flabbergasted that they had one now. "I simply cannot fathom how…"

Harry cut him off. "A lot happened. Voldemort died. You could be yourself again. I grew up. We have a lot in common. Once we both realized that…the rest just sort of…happened."

Severus shook his head in sadness. "You hate…you hated me.

Harry nodded. "I did." He shrugged. "But I was twelve. And thirteen, and fourteen," he let a smirk slide onto his face. Noticing Severus's growing pain, however, he stopped. "I did, until I saw your memories. I couldn't hate you after that. I tried. I really tried. But I couldn't. And then we spent so much time together," he looked away wistfully, caught in a memory. "I grew up," he finished.

"I've apologized for this before, haven't I?" Severus leaned back against one of the lab tables.

"Yeah," Harry grinned sheepishly. "Doesn't get old, though."

"Still cheeky, I see," Severus tried to suppress a thin-lipped smile.

"Some things never change," Harry's smile suddenly disappeared. "What do you think will happen?"

Severus raised his brow to ask for clarification.

"Do you really think it will take a year?" Harry sunk back down onto a nearby stool.

"Well, it will take at least another month. Ms. Granger was right; last night's potion is now useless." At Harry's morose expression, he decided to add his theory, aware that Harry would ascribe more potential to it than he did. "I do believe, however, that were we to decant the potion the next time we made it, it would keep its potency and I would be able to take successive doses." Harry's eyes brightened and he straightened up. "Of course, it is just a theory; it may not work the same way twice."

"But we'll try," Harry was hopeful. "Plus, that will work out well. Summer hols are only a few weeks off. Slughorn can finish out the year and then if it works, by the start of the new school year, you'll be…" Harry bit his lip. "You'll be you."

"One can hope," Severus replied, allowing the wings of said hope to flutter briefly in his chest.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: To my dear and faithful readers - I apologize PROFUSELY for the delay in getting an update posted, but I started a new job a few weeks ago and it is __No. Joke__. I have been unable to find any time to write between working full time in a new position and being a mommy to a fiesty toddler. There is only one chapter left, and I will be on vacation! next week and have __vowed__ to finish not only *this* fic, but my other two that are lingering (if you're following those, they are "Oblivion" and "The Journey's Destination"). Enjoy the penultimate chapter!_

_Same disclaimers apply._

* * *

"Did I ever tell you about Lucius?" Severus asked Harry as they sat on the settee in front of the fireplace. They had been back from supper for quite some time – the event strangely comforting for Severus; he did not remember any faces specifically, but having spent nearly the last month completely in the dark, he felt relieved to finally remember being a professor – even if the students he did remember weren't in the Great Hall.

"What about him?" Harry looked up from the Quidditch magazine he'd been perusing as the fire died down.

"About our…relationship," Severus clarified cagily.

"Do you mean your working relationship? Or do you mean some other sort of relationship?" Harry's eyes went back down to the magazine.

"I've told you, haven't I?" Severus looked nearly put out, but recovered quickly. "How much did I tell you?"

"How much do you think you would have told me?" Harry held back a smirk. He knew it must be incredibly frustrating to have a conversation with someone who could read you like a book. The last time Severus remembered having a conversation with the real Harry, Harry'd been twelve, and scared shitless just at the thought of an encounter with Snape. Now, Harry wasn't even remotely nervous around him, and knew quite well his tactics for getting someone to tell him something he wanted to know without making himself vulnerable. He could feel Severus's irritation growing.

"I believe I would have told you what you asked for," he finally replied, sounding smug.

"Why did you suddenly bring this up now?" Harry closed the magazine, his finger tucked between the two pages to mark his place. He turned his body and hoisted one knee up onto the sofa cushion where he sat. "What made you think of Lucius?"

"It's quite…odd…waking up without memories, and then making new memories, and then waking up again with memories you'd lost." Severus paused, and narrowed his eyes infinitesimally at Harry. Harry waited, nodding ever so slightly. "It's a bit like riding a broom that has a mind of its own – jerky, terrifying."

Harry took his finger out of the magazine and set it on the end table behind the arm of the sofa. He was completely focused now on Severus.

"After Lily – after your mother died, I was – lost. I'm not sure how much of my past you're aware of, but I didn't exactly have a sterling example of what love was from my childhood home life."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"My relationship with her – our friendship," he clarified quickly, "I didn't understand, then, but I wasn't in love with her." He paused, waiting for a reaction from Harry. Harry simply continued to listen. "I loved her, yes, and deeply. But I wasn't _in_ love with her. I realized much later in life that I would never be _in_ love with a woman." He stopped again, seeming to have lost his train of thought.

"Lucius?" Harry prompted him.

Severus inhaled deeply and straightened up on his end of the settee. "Yes, Lucius. We had…an affair of sorts. He introduced me to my 'true' nature, shall we say?"

Harry smirked. Severus raised a brow in mock admonishment.

"Narcissa knew – she chose to look the other way. Draco was young. He never knew." A quizzical look dawned on Severus's face. "Did he? Did he ever learn of our – mine and Lucius's – our relationship?"

"I think so," Harry surmised, having spent his fair share of time with Draco during the rebuilding of Hogwarts. "Don't think he much cared, to be honest."

Severus nodded. "It carried on far too long. It stopped shortly before Draco came to Hogwarts. It had to."

Harry's eyes must have given something away, for a light went on in Severus's brain.

"I never told you when it ended, did I?" Harry shook his head jerkily, though not in anger. "I wonder why I didn't? I must have had a reason."

"I never asked," Harry said simply. "I'm sure you would have told me if I'd have wanted to know."

Severus looked at him speculatively.

"But why now?" Harry prompted him again, "What made you think of him now?"

For a moment, Severus looked almost embarrassed, but shook the expression away. "In this light," Severus began slowly, "without your glasses, from the side, you don't look like James. You hardly even seem like you could be related. When I think of what I said – what I thought those weeks ago, how I didn't understand how I could've – how we could've…" Severus trailed off, his eyes searching Harry's face for a reaction.

Harry had stopped breathing, his eyes widening slightly at Severus's confession.

"If I make myself forget that here," his finger touched his temple, "you're a twelve-year-old boy; if I force myself to think of you as a – separate person," Severus stumbled over his words. "There is no doubt in my mind that you and I would be together."

Harry sucked in a short breath, moved at the sincerity of Severus's words.

"I understand if you wish to decline," Severus offered in a low voice, shifting his body toward Harry's end of the sofa, "but I would – very much like –" His eyes darted down to Harry's lips.

Harry didn't wait to let Severus finish his sentence before he launched himself forward and collided with the solid body across from him. Lips met and hands scrambled: two men desperate from having waited far too long for any release. Harry maneuvered them easily so they were horizontal on the settee within moments. Straining against each other, they rocked, pressing their hips together, making incoherent noises. Then, too soon, it was over. Harry's head fell onto Severus's chest, which was heaving.

Severus brought a tentative hand to rest at the small of Harry's back. "I should apologize," he murmured warily.

Harry grunted a chuckle. "Don't worry, it was good for me."

"I don't want you to feel like this was – was a – a," Severus couldn't seem to find the words he needed.

Harry raised his head to look Severus in the eyes. "A one-off?"

Severus grimaced in assent. Harry rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Look – you do know me, I mean, you basically just got off on a twelve-year-old," Harry snorted at Severus's look of undisguised disgust. "And we already live together, so it's not like I'm worried you won't call." Severus still looked concerned. "Hopefully, by the end of the summer, things will be back to normal," he hurried on to stem the – no doubt pessimistic – interrupting comment from Severus. "And even if they aren't, it seems that we might be able to think of this as," he wiggled his hips, eliciting a sharp inhale from the body below him, "a rather messy first date." He waggled his eyebrows and hoisted himself off of Severus, holding out a hand to help the other man up. As soon as Severus was standing, Harry waved his hand and both men were clean, and free from any lingering stickiness.

Severus's eyes widened. "Wandless?"

Harry nodded.

"And non-verbal?"

Harry waved his hand again and both their shirts were gone.

"Perhaps we did manage to teach you something useful," his mouth curled into a suggestive smile and he took Harry's proffered hand leading him to the bedroom.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Hahaaaaa! I did it! I finished it on vacation. I would just like all my loyal readers to remember that as you come to the end of the story - I thought about you - yes, you - on my vacation. I hope you like the ending, although if you don't...read one of my other stories instead! Mwahahaaaaa! Seriously, though, thank you for all your support and feedback! I'm more than halfway done with "Oblivion" and hope to finish that by the end of the summer, if not before. Enough, enough. Read! Enjoy! Review!

Same disclaimers apply

* * *

"Well, there they are," Hermione folded her arms across her chest as she stepped back from the work table in the potions laboratory.

Harry counted them again, the twelve bottles of the potion that had been finished less than an hour ago. It had been a month since Severus had taken the first batch of the antidote, and now Harry, who had felt perfectly confident all this time that the next dose would work, found himself nearly jumpy with anxiety as he stared at the decanted vials, lined up in a row like recalcitrant students set for detention.

"Do you think we ought to chill them?" Hermione asked Severus.

"Perhaps half," he suggested. "As we are unsure of whether or not the decanting will even be successful, having some chilled and some not will mean we will only have to re-make half the doses if temperature matters." He waved his wand and cast a light cooling charm on the right half of the laid out bottles.

"Owl us tomorrow, will you?" Hermione gave Harry a peck on the cheek before leaving the lab.

"Right," he agreed, squeezing her hand as she turned to walk out the door.

Once they were alone, Harry and Severus just stared at each other.

"Are you going to drink one now?" Harry finally broke the silence.

"I made sure we brewed the potion so that it would be near bedtime once it was ready," Severus walked over to the table and picked up the left-most bottle, examining it curiously.

"Are you sure you want to?" Harry asked half-heartedly. "There are lots of things you won't thank me to remember."

Severus's eyes darted away from the bottle to pin Harry with a look of incredulity.

"It's just been," Harry faltered. "It's just that these last few weeks haven't been all that bad, us getting to know each other this way. I just don't want you to wake up at some horrible point or in some terrible memory and…I mean, I at least knew what had happened to Albus. Once Voldemort came back, there were all sorts of things you did, places you went, things you saw…I might not be able to help." Harry bit his lip in nervousness. "I wouldn't know what to do – I, don't want to see you…in pain," he trailed off.

Severus set the potion bottle back down on the table; he turned around, and then leaned against the worktop and folded his arms across his chest, gazing speculatively at Harry.

"If you could pick a memory – any memory at all – to forget, which would it be?" Severus finally asked.

Harry was taken aback by the question. He thought about it; he ran through the awful things he'd seen or been through in his life that he wished he could forget: being bullied by Dudley and his friends, Voldemort's face on the back of Quirrill's head, Tom Riddle trying to kill Ginny, the basilisk trying to kill him, the moment he realized Pettigrew was going to escape, Wormtail killing Cedric, Voldemort being reborn in the graveyard, the blood quill from Umbridge, Sirius going through the veil, Bellatrix's laugh in the ministry that night, using Sectumsempra on Malfoy, that night in the cave with Dumbledore, watching Severus kill Albus, Hedwig being murdered, hearing Bellatrix torture Hermione in Malfoy Manor, Dobby dying in his arms, Fred dying, Tonks dying, Lupin dying, hearing his mother scream every time a Dementor came near him…Harry finally shook his head and wiped his hands down his face to clear the horrible memories from his mind.

"There's too many to choose from," he replied in defeat.

"I don't doubt that," Severus commiserated. "But think – even if you forgot just one of those memories, would that change how you live your life now? Would that change who you are?"

Harry was dumbfounded as he realized the answers to those questions.

"I had a student once – a few years before you came to Hogwarts, who had been having a simply dreadful day. The end of that day for him was my class, and I had set a test – which he failed spectacularly. I remember him just shaking his head in despair as I handed him back his parchment with the failing mark. He said, 'I just wish I could forget this day ever happened.'"

"I've had those days," Harry muttered. Severus shot him a smirk.

"I sympathized with the boy, as well, but I also asked him what would have been the point of the day? If he forgot that it happened, he would not have learned anything from his mistakes, and then might, potentially, make them again some time in the future."

Harry walked over to stand by Severus, leaning himself against the table top and folding his own arms across his chest. He leaned his head onto Severus's upper arm and sighed. "When did you get to be so wise?"

"Sadly, those of us who are wisest are often those of us who have made the most mistakes and lost the most."

They stood like that for another moment longer before Harry stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Well, I'm beat. What say you knock that back and we head upstairs?" Harry asked.

Severus nodded tersely, unstoppered the vial, and downed the contents in once gulp.

* * *

Harry awoke to a looming figure over him.

"You stole my book," Severus accused him in a voice of deadly silk.

Harry fumbled around for his glasses and forced them onto his face before propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at Severus – dressed in black from head to toe – glaring down at him.

"Pardon?" Harry asked after he cleared his throat.

"You tried to kill Draco and you stole my book to do it," Severus raised his voice only slightly.

"It worked!" Harry sat straight up in bed and nearly whooped with joy. "How many years is that?" He ticked them off on his fingers, "What, five? Roughly? That's fantastic!" His face fell when he realized that Severus was still towering over him and definitely did not have a look of joy on his face. "Oh, Draco. The book. Right." He felt fairly confident he knew where Severus had woken up, and although this particular incident was only a small pebble in their pond filled with much larger stones, he figured that right now, it wouldn't feel that way to Severus. "First of all, I didn't try to kill Draco. He was going to use an Unforgiveable Curse on me," Harry held up his hand and hurried on over Severus's uninformed and – likely biased – comment. "I didn't know what _Sectumsempra_ did – it only said 'for enemies' and I know I shouldn't have used it, but I didn't know whose book it was. And I didn't steal the book. It was in the Potions Room cabinet of class text copies. Believe me, if I'd've known it was yours, I wouldn't have touched it. Trust me."

Severus didn't look placated.

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes slightly. "Where exactly are you? Is it that night? Have you already been on – been to the tower?"

Severus's eye twitched. "Suffice it to say that I am having a hard time believing my own advice from yesterday regarding memories being vital to one's way of life."

"Got it," Harry didn't need to ask anything else. He swung his legs out of bed and threw off the covers and began getting ready for the day. "Well, there's nothing like staying busy to help with distraction. The students have been gone for a few days – what say you we go through the Common Rooms and dorms and find all the delightful things they've left behind for us?"

That put an evil grin on Severus's face. "Oh, dear boy, you have not possibly been teaching long enough to know what 'delightful' is…when I think of the things I confiscated over the holidays from just the few years _you_ were here…" he trailed off as he held the bedroom door open for Harry so they could leave together.

* * *

Severus awoke to a warm body next to him. He sifted through the haze of sleep and tried to figure out who it might be. The last thing he remembered was having a night-cap with Potter. There had been some serious rebuilding done yesterday and Potter had come to help – he was taking some time after a particularly long Auror assignment…he'd been saying 'yes' to Severus's invitations for tea and brandy for several weeks now. Severus had wanted to ask him to stay the night last night, but had decided not to. Hadn't he? Who else would this be? He cracked his eye open and was rewarded with a glimpse of a wild mop of messy black hair. He closed his eye again and just as the feeling of guilt began to build in his gut, the realization hit him that the drink last night had been more antidote, not brandy, and this meant that the decanted potion was working.

His heart began pounding in his chest and his lips curled into a wicked smile as he opened both eyes and turned carefully in the bed toward Harry. Severus's last real-time memory of Harry was him looking flushed and edible after having done some heavy rebuilding and downing a few drinks. Back then, Severus hadn't known how Harry felt about him, but now he knew better, and so he could think of nothing he wanted to do more than taste that delectable body, since he knew with absolute certainty that Harry would not object.

Severus slunk under the covers and licked his lips as he saw no pajama bottoms on Harry beneath the sheets.

* * *

"Is it worth it to even try another dose?" Hermione squinted at the bottle of antidote she held in her hand. There were four bottles left.

"At this point, it's more a question of diminishing returns," Severus sighed. "I've gotten back to just before start of term in the summer of 2003. I think I'll just have to make do."

"But that's only, what, eight months you're still missing?" Harry twisted his face, trying to do the mental math. "That's just the school year, then. I can show you the important things that happened this year."

"Very well," Severus conceded. "Thank you," he walked over to Hermione and stood in front of her awkwardly. "Without your help, I would have lost…everything." He glanced over at Harry. He let out a soft 'oof' as Hermione threw herself at him and wrapped him in a giant hug.

"Sorry!" she jumped back, snatching her hands back from Severus as though his body was a pile of hot coals.

Severus looked startled for a moment, but then stepped back toward her and returned her hug, smiling over her head in amusement at Harry's open-mouthed gaping.

"Well," she cleared her throat and smoothed down her blouse after Severus ended their embrace. "Shall we see you at the Burrow on Saturday? Everyone will be so excited that you're…you."

Harry looked over at Severus, the question in his eyes.

"Of course," Severus inclined his head toward her. "I look forward to it."

Hermione left the laboratory and Harry and Severus followed closely behind her. In the corridor, however, she turned the direction of the exit and the men turned the direction of their quarters.

"Whatever shall we do with ourselves this evening, Professor Potter?" Severus drawled as he walked a few paces in front of Harry.

"I dunno," Harry picked up his pace to keep stride with Severus. "Do you have something in mind?"

Severus didn't answer him before they reached the portrait that guarded the entrance to their rooms. Once inside, Severus poured them both two fingers of brandy and motioned for Harry to sit on the settee next to him.

"Do you want to see the memories?" Harry asked. At the confused look Severus gave him, he clarified, "Of the past year – the things you won't be able to remember with the antidote."

Severus shook his head as he took a sip. "Not tonight," he answered.

Harry sat for a moment and took a drink of his own brandy before making a statement. "You told Hermione that you would have lost everything if it weren't for her."

"I did," Severus confirmed.

"I could make an inference about that statement," Harry pointed out.

"You could," Severus agreed.

"You know," Harry looked down at his glass and swirled the dark liquid around gently. "Without her help, I would have lost everything, too."

"Is that so?" Severus shifted his body so he could cross his legs but sit slightly sideways on the settee. His back was against the arm of the sofa.

"Everything that matters, yes," Harry took a sip.

"Hm," Severus took a sip of his own drink.

Harry put his glass down on the end table. "I love you, Severus," he looked straight into Severus's black eyes. "These past few months have been barely short of hell…not having you."

"For me as well," Severus agreed softly. "I do not say this enough to you, Harry, but I love you, too."

"I know," Harry told him.

"And I know you know," Severus stood. "But this curse made me realize that if something were to happen to me, I would want you to know and to have heard it enough to know that you…" Severus pulled Harry into an embrace, "You are my everything."

Harry's eyes became wet at Severus's uncharacteristic display of emotions. He lifted his face to Severus's and kissed him. The kiss started slowly, but it built quickly and both of them broke apart to make their way into the bedroom.

They took their time showing their love to each other. They did not hurry through the motions; they did not gloss over any insignificant detail. They took comfort in each other; they pleasured each other, and in return, their own joy was heightened. They rocked together, they held each other. They came together slowly but with incredible intensity.

Once they were done, they both pulled apart, panting. Their limbs tangled together with familiarity and hands began stroking and lips bestowing soft kisses. As things settled down, Severus turned on his back and pulled Harry's head onto his chest, wrapping his arm around Harry's back so he could stroke Harry's arm.

"You know, I certainly can understand the depth of evil those who created this curse intended to impart on the victims," Severus said, trailing his fingers up and down Harry's upper arm.

"But at least now there's hope for anyone who might be subjected to it," Harry replied as brightly as he could for being so sated.

"I believe Ms. Granger and I should publish our work," Severus supposed in the dark.

"You'll have to do more research, then, won't you?" Harry tilted his head up, but couldn't see much without sufficient lighting. Sensing what Harry wanted, Severus waved his hand and the candles brightened.

"Yes," he looked back down at Harry. "I doubt I would be assuming too much if I said she wouldn't mind the research."

Harry snorted. "Stop the presses."

"You know," Severus shifted slightly, making them both more comfortable for the duration of the conversation. "I believe if she shows the same enthusiasm for our research that you just showed for my pounding you into the mattress, I might even let her have her name first on the paper."

"Merlin," Harry started shaking with laughter, "Sev, if she ever finds out that you compared her love of knowledge to my love of your cock, she might never speak to us again."

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," Severus growled as he turned to maneuver his body above Harry's as he swallowed Harry's lips with his own.

They both waved their hands and the candles went out, leaving nothing but the sound of their bodies and voices as they made love into the early morning hours.

::: FIN :::


End file.
